Life After Death Volume 1
by T'Ashalik
Summary: Two years after Amanda Grayson's death, Sarek meets an unexpected woman, and discovers the possibility of a life after her death.
1. Chapter 1

**The Job Posting**

Vulcan Embassy

San Francisco

2295.17

Sarek always found Terran architecture uniquely satisfying. The fireplace in his office would not have been a logical choice, but it was very useful. The warmth radiated throughout the room, keeping the cold, San Francisco winter at bay.

Working late into yet another night, he turned his attention to a project he had asked for: the development of a cultural exchange initiative with the goal of continuous awareness and understanding of cultural and behavioral expression. His experience in diplomacy taught him that more often than not, evaluation of artistic endeavors strongly reflected the emotional health of a culture.

Implementation of the first phase could be easily met with the exception of particular item: finding the right person to head the program. This individual would be highly skilled in their field, have a high level of linguistic proficiency; a consistent and demonstrative instructional reputation, and be able to work with many different cultures well.

He instructed his aid Soran, to distribute the call for applications to colleges, universities, and the Ministry of Xenocultural Affairs at Federation headquarters. Within six hours of distribution more than three hundred applications were received.

Over the following weeks, Sarek quickly discovered many people partially qualified; however, their underdeveloped skills rendered them inappropriate. After reviewing all applications, the field had narrowed to four meeting minimum expectations, and he was not certain any of them were the right fit.

"Ambassador, a Dr. Jarvis from the Eastman School requests to speak with you."

"Put him through."

An older man appeared on the view screen, with several colleagues in the background. "Good evening, Ambassador. I'd like to ask if you're still accepting applications for the directorship?"

"No, the deadline has passed."

"That is unfortunate," he paused, a colleague whispering in his ear. He nodded affirmingly.

"Is there any chance you would accept one more? The reason is we've a current doctoral student who's an ideal candidate. We'd be sorry for her not to be considered because she was traveling off world conducting research," he said, hopefully. "She didn't know about it until after the deadline passed."

Sarek looked at him quietly.

"She's based in San Francisco, and nearly finished her doctoral work. It's a doubled doctorate, and one focus is already completed," Dr. Jarvis said.

"What are the focal points of her degrees?"

"Artistic Management, that's already finished. The other is in Xenocultural Aesthetics."

Sarek thought carefully, reasoning that one more could certainly not cause a problem. "Dr. Jarvis, instruct her to file the application within the next eight hours directly to the Vulcan embassy. She will leave it with the guard on duty."

"Ambassador, thank you. I sincerely appreciate your flexibility in this."

After instructing Soran to inform the security staff of a potential early morning delivery, he thought on this new applicant: if truly interested, she would submit her application no later than 0300 hours. A worthwhile candidate would see it done on time or even better, early.

The next morning Soran knocked on his office door, a folder in his hands. "This was delivered at the embassy gates at 0247 hours."

Sitting across from Sarek, he waited, having already screened the entire document. Sarek took nearly twenty minutes to read it. He stopped, thinking a moment, and then spoke.

"I will speak with Dr. Jarvis immediately."

A moment later, he was waiting on the comm-link. "Good morning," he smiled.

"I received an application from your student. I require clarification: why is Ms. McGregor posted to Starfleet Academy?"

"Oh, that. She received a two-year contract to direct the honor guard at Starfleet. They have a drum line, and a brass ensemble, and she teaches a few cadet buglers to play traditional military cadences – music for ceremonies – that sort of thing. It's an old Terran military custom."

"Its origin?" Sarek asked, intrigued.

"It derives from a more primitive method of communication. Battlefield combat offers a distinct problem: communicating orders effectively over the noise. Drummers and buglers would play rhythmic and melodic patterns to issue orders. Technology began to change battleground tactics. The need waned, but the appreciation didn't – symbolic remembrance of those lost in battle is highly respected in Terran culture."

After arriving Starfleet Headquarters and receiving security clearance, Sarek and Soran made their way to the visitor's center, a short, balding, human male met them.

"Ambassador Sarek? I am Jim Thompson. Todd Jarvis told me you would visit." He smiled at them both. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I am considering a member of your staff for the directorship of the cultural affairs initiative," Sarek stated.

"Emma applied, didn't she?"

"Affirmative. I will speak with you regarding the resume she submitted."

"Certainly, sir. Why don't we make our way to the parade grounds?"

After finding a comfortable place to sit, Sarek observed a group of cadets marching in a tight formation, while another group stood in a circle playing rhythmic cadences on snare drums. He caught a glimpse of a small group of cadets tuning their horns and preparing to drill.

"I would normally invite you to my office, but the honor guard will begin rehearsal in a few moments. She directs the group and it would give you an opportunity to observe."

"Logical. Please clarify her awarded degrees," he requested.

"She earned a bachelor of music from Indiana. She received an assistantship to Harvard for her graduate studies. She earned two master's degrees there: Musical Research, and Xenomusicology."

"What of her linguistic capabilities?" Sarek asked.

"Emma's primary languages are Scots Gaelic and English. She also studied Vulcan for six years for her Ph.D.," he answered. "She gave a research presentation at a conference hosted by Yale three years ago. That is where Todd learned of her research focus.

"He offered her a fellowship to attend Eastman for her Ph.D work. Emma has been translating the works Pre-Reform Vulcan poets. She is making a cross-cultural comparison between them and the Terran Nationalistic composers of the 19th and 20th centuries. The dissertation debate is going to be quite interesting. People are either for or against this one," Dr. Thompson said with poorly masked excitement.

"Why?"

"Because she is the first to perform 'out-worlder' translations for literally _all_ extant works; she has drawn astonishing comparisons in cultural perception and awareness, and it is frustrating the stereotypes held by a lot of people on both worlds."

Sarek regarded him carefully, quite familiar with them. "There are more than fifteen hundred."

"All fifteen hundred sixty-three," Dr. Thompson said, with fading glee as a right eyebrow rose slightly.

An older Hispanic woman found where they were and worked her way into the stands to join them. "Good afternoon, gentlemen." She smiled.

Dr. Thompson introduced them. "This is Caroline Gomes. She is the liaison between our offices and the academy. She created the opportunity for Emma to work here. Caroline, this is Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan."

"Peace and long life to you." She bowed slightly. "I understand Emma applied for the directorship? I am glad she did. She is well suited for that job. She has uncovered similar social responses between Vulcan and Human cultures in periods of social upheaval.

"Please understand our pride in her is not misplaced or undeserved. Evaluations of her cognitive abilities are in the top two percent of known human capability. Her intelligence and spatial-lateral reasoning are off the charts. She also spent six years on Betazed training with their telepathic and empathic counseling staff. Her psi rating is an eight. Most humans with _any_ capabilities max around five," Dr. Gomes stated.

"Eight? What are her capabilities?" asked Sarek.

"She was tested and diagnosed as a broadcast telepath - receptor only, touch telepath, and auditory-visual empath. She reads people very well. It's one reason she can teach just about anyone. Well, there is one group, not so much," she added, hesitating.

"Who?" Sarek asked.

"Tellarites."

"Understandable," he quipped. Soran looked abruptly at him. Sarek then inquired about her instrumental proficiency.

"This is where it gets interesting. She has a tremendous capacity for learning musical instruments. She began percussion as a first year master's student simply because she needed one elective credit to complete her degree plan," Dr. Thompson said with delight.

"Are we to assume she plays others?" Sarek asked.

"Yes. I have heard rumors about guitar and violin, but for some reason she will not give us a straight answer on that. She is from the Isle of Skye, off the west coast of Scotland. There is a very rich folk music heritage there. You should hear her play when it's not important."

"Why?" Soran asked.

"Because it's better than when it really matters," he said with a grin.

"Compostion?" Sarek requested.

"Primarily, she writes instrumental works, art songs and some choral pieces. The word on the street right now is that she will be asked to step into the position left open after the death of Shiyoran Ka'alte last month," Dr. Thompson answered.

"She will be named composer laureate to the Federation?" Sarek asked. "Is she aware of this?"

"Not yet. It seems that the people the selection committee have approached keep deferring to her, and keep in mind those people are anywhere from forty to eighty years her senior," Dr. Thompson stated.

"Two of them were her composition mentors. I can appreciate your doubt. We have _talked_ a lot about her. Perhaps you can watch and decide for yourself," Dr. Gomes suggested, pointing to the woman jogging onto the parade grounds.

Emma came through the gates and trotted up to the center of the field. She blew her whistle once and the cadets assembled in a circle around her. They began to play warm-up exercises and prepare for practice. While they finished their preparations, she strapped on a snare drum harness and began playing the final practice cadences. Emma gave final instructions and they began counting off in Vulcan.

Soran's curiosity got the best of him.

"Why are they counting in Vulcan?"

"The cardinal base of your numbering system is syllabically divisible by two, it establishes a consistent subdivision pattern for them to start the cadence on," Dr. Thompson answered.

As they listened and watched, Sarek was having difficulty with the capabilities she possessed.

"How is it that she has developed such skills in so short a period of time? This level of proficiency in only six years cannot be normal. What were the processes with which she was instructed?" he asked.

"The standard methods, and she has been guided by the very best instructors available. She burns through material at a rate we have not seen before. She recently went to Finland to study for six months – and came home after four weeks. She returned when their ability to teach her had been exhausted. They did not know what else to do with her," Dr. Gomes replied.

"And _that_ is a problem," Dr. Thompson stated clearly.

"Explain," Sarek requested.

"You need to understand that while she is a marvelous person, and a highly gifted musician, she is an aberration in our society."

Sarek's eyebrows rose at such a derogatory description. On Vulcan, any child with this kind of exceptional ability was cultivated, nurtured, and encouraged to realize their highest potential. He could not understand that she was so unusual no one knew what to do with or for her.

"It would appear that everyone she encounters abandons her at a point of great need in her academic development," he observed, "most illogical."

"I mean no disrespect to her at all, please understand that. It is simply that she is so different that people do not know how to interact with her," he said.

"Emma needs to be around highly intelligent individuals; in _and_ out of academia. She spends too much time in that office of hers; how else could she have translated all those works in that amount of time?"

"I agree, I have actually had to tell her to go home on several occasions," Dr. Gomes offered. "I also had to insist she leave her work at the office. At one point, I required her to journal about her leisure activities simply so I knew she was doing something to relax.

"There is something else – she had behavioral and socialization problems as a teenager," she finished.

"Of what nature?" Sarek asked.

"She was frustrated and angry, and had issues with impulse control and self-discipline, getting into a lot of fights, and even had minor problems with the authorities. She dealt with substantial depression and was very withdrawn. She tried to ask for help, but did not know what the problem was.

"She was diagnosed mentally ill - one specialist suggested multiple personality disorder as the only possible way to explain 'hearing the thoughts of others'," Dr. Thompson said.

"No one thought to test her esper abilities?" Sarek could not believe this oversight.

"No - so many humans are psi-blind that to be diagnosed, you have to live in a dense population center. Her island home is very rural," he continued.

"Her father and uncle were working off world with a team responsible for assisting with the admission of Betazed to the Federation in 2273. They spoke with a group of counselors about her situation. They were encouraged to send her to them immediately. Once she arrived, they discerned her telepathic abilities and began a complete battery of psi testing, negating the misdiagnosis of her mental health," Dr. Gomes interjected.

"Who are her father and uncle?" asked Sarek.

"Drs. William and Kenneth McLeod."

Ken McLeod was a highly respected educator that worked tirelessly to integrate Betazoid teaching philosophies into the Diplomatic Corps' training structure. Will McLeod was an architectural engineer. Together they published several papers about education and the arts on Betazed after its admission to the Federation. Amanda had strongly supported their research, having written the foreword to the books they coauthored in 2285 and 2293.

He remembered her expression 'it's a small galaxy', and agreed. It then occurred to him that Emma McGregor was the correspondence language student Amanda taught for so many years. It all finally made sense. He reflected on a conversation with Amanda only two weeks before her death…

 _"_ Aduna _, I must speak with you regarding our communications invoice," he approached gently._

 _She was always careful with financial matters, and it bothered him to question her spending habits on the rare occasions it was necessary._

 _"What about it?"_

 _She reached her arm out and snaked it around his right leg as he stood next to her, and tickled him behind his knee, smiling when he leaned in closer._

 _"Your attempt to distract me will not succeed. The invoice has increased steadily over the past eight months. Is all well with your brother?"_

 _"He's fine – but he is not the one I am talking to."_

 _She trailed her fingers higher up his thigh, grazing her fingernails along the soft fabric of his trousers._

 _"May I ask who is requiring this much of you?" he asked. "I would think attending to my wants is both a higher priority and a better use of your time." He smiled at her, liking the thought of where her hand might end up next._

 _Her eyes twinkled._

 _"Sarek, it's for a language student. I normally wouldn't make a concession like this, but she is exceptionally gifted. The beginning and intermediate courses normally take forty-eight months – yeah, she completed them in thirty. We have been working on pre-reform poetic translations ever since."_

 _His eyebrows rose._

 _"Exactly. Her mentors contacted me and asked to work out an arrangement for instruction as she prepares for her doctoral studies. The school pays for her calls, and we pay for mine. The more I learned about her the less I could say no, and you know how hard it is for me to turn a good student away."_

 _She smiled at him. She traced his buttocks and gave them a gentle squeeze. He tried to think of ways to turn himself toward her without being_ that _obvious, and was unsuccessful._

 _"You are particularly generous with such students, my wife. How is her performance?"_

 _"Virtually painless. The only problem she has is her natural accent. She is from Scotland and the accent tends to be heavy. It occludes some vowel pronunciations. She has an interesting tendency to create diphthongs in her vocabulary, and her oral cavity is always too closed. You really should hear her sometime - it's quite unusual._

 _"That notwithstanding, she is one of the most intelligent people I've ever worked with. Her father and uncle are writing another book about the creative arts on Betazed. They've asked me to write the forward again."_

 _Such praise was extraordinary, coming from Amanda. She was relentless with her students, often driving them away with her demands on their work ethics and study habits. For one so young to reach that point of competency was no ordinary accomplishment._

 _As he thought about that conversation, his mind logically went to the activities that followed it – the last time he and Amanda made love. While she finished writing her criticism and instructions for her student, he went to their bedroom and drew a hot bath, adding her favorite salts, and undressed. He turned the bed down and then went to find her._

 _"_ K'diwa _, I request your attention now," he said, taking in her beauty. She sent the message and took his hand._

 _He kissed her nose and led her down the hall. Once in their bedroom, he smiled at her._

 _"I confess I deceived you. I intended not for you to attend me this evening," he said softly, undressing her. Then he picked her up in his arms gently and carried her to the waiting bath. He set her in it, sat down behind her, and held her in his arms._

 _Afterward, she took him into hers, their thoughts expressing everything they could not say aloud, even in the privacy of their own home. They took time to share the lifelong love-relationship for what neither of them knew would be the very last time…_

Sarek's mind rejoined the conversation.

"I think that time on Betazed was the best thing that could have happened to her, honestly. The diagnostic reports described her as a 'ship with a faulty navigational sensor, heading dangerously off-course. If you repair the module, the course is corrected'. She has stayed the course for twenty-two years," Dr. Thompson said.

Sarek listened very carefully to the things her supervisors were sharing with them. Betazed was known for training and counseling individuals struggling with esper-related problems. It was clear to him that they were concerned about her emotional health as well as her professional capability.

He thought she would fit well into Vulcan society. She had the intelligence, work ethic, and the socialization issues were evidently resolved well enough that they employed her. He suspected that the right environment could present her with a much more satisfying life experience.

"I don't see how she has the energy to do what she does," Dr. Thompson admitted.

"Actually, I do. I think it's because there is nothing else in her life. It's a sad thing to consider, but there is no social outlet for her at all," Dr. Gomes said quietly

He instructed Soran to place her on the shortlist. As they were preparing to leave, Sarek turned and asked a very direct question. "If she is all that you say, would you not prefer she remain on staff here? What would you gain from her departure?"

"Ambassador, we gain nothing from her departure. In fact, it would be a great loss, but the issue here is not what is best for us, is it?" Dr. Thompson answered thoughtfully.

"The issue here is two-fold as I see it: you finding someone very qualified to head your program, which she is, and Emma finding the best place for her own professional development and quality of life. She will not find those here with us," Dr. Gomes said quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Interview**

2295.31

Emma McGregor sat in her office feeling only a _little_ too pleased with herself. Not only had she successfully completed the degrees, she had the diplomas in hand. Following the ancient university traditions: parchment, hand-written calligraphy, and in Latin. After responding familial congratulations, she had been ignoring the com-unit until it notified her of an urgent incoming message from the Vulcan Embassy.

 _Doctor McGregor,_

 _You are requested to meet with Ambassador Sarek at 1445 hours this afternoon. Please confirm your availability upon receipt of this message._

 _Soran_

 _Executive Ambassadorial Aid_

She read it, blinked, and then reread it, stunned.

Two months earlier, her dissertation supervisor tipped her off about an opening as the new Federation Cultural Interchange Director. He felt it would be a significant career step and an interesting social transition.

She recalled laughing out loud at the description, but applied anyway. More or less qualified for the job, she thought she might be too young and inexperienced to be considered. After submitting her application to the gate of the embassy in the early morning hours, she moved on from it, not in the least expecting any further communication about it. She decided to at least update her application, and sent a message to Soran.

Exactly thirteen minutes later, she was asked to meet with the ambassador.

She dressed in a soft, ecru angora sweater, her clan's tartan plaid skirt, and began to assemble the necessary accoutrement, thinking carefully about what was coming this unexpected afternoon.

She knew who Ambassador Sarek was, having heard from various people that he was a formidable, respected diplomat with an intimidating presence. One had suggested a CPU with feet and a fabulous wardrobe. Another described him as having the warmth of a snow pea. Her office mate said that any debate involving Tellarites meant he would rather be drawn and quartered than lose.

She took a deep breath and headed for the Vulcan embassy. After she checked in at the front gate, Soran came to meet her. He escorted her down a hallway leading away from the public areas on the first floor. Emma noted how, although austere, lovely art was displayed. She recognized works by prominent Vulcan, Andorian, Terran, and Deltan artists – and paused for a moment in front of one of them.

"Dr. McGregor?" Soran asked.

"I was just looking at 'Guernica'– it is an interesting choice."

"Picasso was an interesting Terran," he replied.

He would mention her awareness of the painting to the ambassador. They approached the end of the hall and Soran opened the door for her, asking her to wait, entering the adjacent room. At precisely 1445 hours, he reappeared to invite her in and introduced them.

"Ambassador Sarek, Dr. Emma McGregor."

She saw a tall, lean man with salt and pepper gray hair and an intensely scrutinizing gaze stand behind the desk. His robes were a beautiful shade of brown, trimmed in black and had what she translated as his clan name embroidered in gold down his lapel.

"Dr. McGregor, thank you for taking time to speak with me today." He raised his hand and offered the _ta'al_.

"Your presence honors me, _O'_ _kevet-dutar,_ " she replied, saluting him and bowing slightly.

He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk, noting a refined mastery of Vulcan social etiquette. "Would you care for tea?"

"Yes, please."

She looked directly at him and waited quietly as Soran served them both and then vanished, door closing behind him. Sarek studied her with intense hazel eyes.

 _Such lovely eyes_ , she thought to herself.

She had fascinating natural hair color. He had seen red hair on humans before, but the intensity of orange was unusual. Cut short, with sloping sideburns, it was streaked with premature silver.

For her, the silence was mildly amusing, and he would not break eye contact. She decided not to lose the staring contest, waited for him to speak.

His right eyebrow rose slightly.

"I have observed that humans prefer to avoid prolonged eye contact, as potentially confrontational."

"It can be so, in some cases."

"Am I to understand that you do not perceive it in that manner?" Sarek asked curiously.

"Correct." She smiled.

"I fail to see the humor in this."

"It just reminded me of a preoccupation that many humans participate in: the staring contest."

She wondered if she should kiss the job good bye.

"I do not understand the purpose of intentionally prolonging eye contact with another for the sake of humor. What social value does this serve?" He sincerely did not get it.

"Well, it is a simple matter of who will look away or blink first. They lose."

 _Yep, this job is history_. She might as well enjoy the conversation while it lasted, besides, she couldn't stop looking at his eyebrows.

"It establishes precedence of dominance in future interactions between those individuals," he postulated.

"No, it is simply for amusement. It's not logical, but it is what it is."

She wanted to play with his ears, but decided against it, lest she be charged with assault.

"Indeed."

He remembered moments when Amanda would tease him about missing the importance of fun. A surge of grief for his beloved began to rise within him; the corner of his mouth tugged only so slightly.

Two years had passed since Amanda died, and even though he had adjusted his daily routines, life had not been the same. Once, Amanda suggested that he did not know what he had gotten himself into when he married her. At the time, he did not understand, believing he had carefully evaluated the variables. Now, he agreed. Adjusting to solitude was a daily challenge.

"I offer my congratulations regarding receipt of your doctoral degrees. Your efforts have produced interesting discovery."

"Thank you."

She had not been tossed out on her ear - at least not yet. What was that remarkably pleasant scent? She tried to place it in her mind, but was failing.

 _Pay attention Emma, for crying out loud_ , she chastised.

"I percieve great value in consistently revising awareness and understanding between Terran and Vulcan cultures. Provided the resources and creative authority, how would you choose to integrate aesthetic expression into developing cultural awareness?"

She thought for a moment. "The primary conclusions show that although our two species have developed in substantially different ways, direct correlation exists in how we express ourselves artistically; both of our civilizations deal heavily with emotion, albeit through highly contrasting philosophies."

"Agreed."

"Careful evaluation of music written during times of extraordinary social revolution reveals shared expressive elements. I think it wise to study those similarities and present analysis. It does not require either culture to deny philosophies under which we conduct ourselves, merely present unique perspectives and awareness. Awareness provides opportunity for change."

Sarek considered of the benefit of education versus the detriment of secrecy: not everything needed a shroud of mystery.

"It would be an interesting experiment to educate Vulcans in Terran musical practices and encourage expression to Terran audiences. I would encourage musical studies that include learning to sing or play an instrument, studying theory and harmony, and composition. Reasoning those processes are highly logical and structured, they represent one of many strong correlations between us. If successful, the obverse experiment should be conducted on Vulcan," Emma finished.

He sat quietly, thinking about the idea, as scientific curiosity got the better of him.

"How would this initial experiment be conducted?"

"I envision two phases: first would be private and group lessons weekly, building technical proficiency. Secondly the group would join music ensembles at the ministry when they are proficient, allowing their creative contributions to be presented in performance."

"What musical projects would be most beneficial?"

"We'd focus on important compositional figures in Terran history, learning examples of their repertoire. I have some ideas for this summer however. The exchange should be unilateral for participants, encouraging opportunities for participants to introduce their creative cultural elements.

"Ambassador, it is known that studying artistic creation during periods of political strife can grant a clear view into the emotional health of the culture. The artistic community is the veritable 'canary in the coal mine' for social stability, or instability."

"Is this unique to only our two worlds? Is there any possibility of this concept becoming more inclusive of other species?" he asked, theorizing there was much more to be derived over the long term.

"Actually, I've wondered the same thing. I recently began preliminary research in communication methods. What I have found is significant. There are two concepts: the first is this artistic-social behavior pattern is strongly present in nearly all Federation member planets."

"Which planets do not show this pattern?" His curiosity piqued.

"Cultures for whom the primary interpersonal communication is via broadcast telepathy. Simply put, if they produce audible communication, this concept is present to a very strong degree."

"All of them?"

"Yes sir, all of them. The long-term implications for the Cultural Interchange Directive are not only cultural awareness or understanding of behavior. Musical education is merely the beginning. The program has the potential to act as a diagnostic tool for socio-political issues. The benefits to the Diplomatic Corps are worth the investment alone."

"What would you estimate the degree of accuracy to be in predictions of instability?"

"That is a difficult question to answer. I estimate an accuracy of between seventy and eighty-five percent, all things considered – too low to be an absolute, but high enough to act as an early warning system," she responded.

"What of the second concept?"

"This is equally fascinating to me. Of all planets utilizing audible communication, each language has very specific and defined rhythmic patterns that are exactly mirrored in their music styles. The inflective behavior of the languages all derive from naturally occurring ambient sounds in the indigenous environment. The meter of the languages is identical to the meter of their musical forms. The possibilities for improving linguistic pedagogy are exciting."

"Dr. McGregor, how would you accommodate the time necessary for this addition to your schedule?"

"Well, to be honest, since the degrees completed, I have no demands upon my time, except for the honor guard," she answered. "The contract for those classes ends as of June 1st this year."

Maybe this job was not kaput after all.

"What cultural factors would you prefer to be brought by the Vulcan students?"

"I would like to focus on two factors: modes of acceptable artistic expression within current Vulcan culture, and a thorough exploration of Surak's teachings. A project on those two issues alone would require at minimum twelve months to plan, create and set for performance."

 _Infinite Diveristy, Infinite Combinations_ he thought silently.

He looked at her intently, having already read her translations of the Pre-reform poetic works. They showed an interesting external perspective on the Vulcan culture. Her pursuit of the language, means of expression, and mastery of etiquette had thus far been quite satisfactory.

"Also, I'd require an office here at the embassy simply to house the materials and to teach. My time is flexible and would be at the student's convenience."

They certainly had the room to accommodate her office needs.

"I do have a personal request, actually."

 _Here is where we lose the job_ , she thought to herself. _Start making conditions on their territory, their time, and their credits._

"That being?"

He was relieved to see she was not afraid to communicate sincerely; most humans did not know how to act around Vulcans. She was completely at ease, just as her references said she would be.

"I would ask to be able to compose and rehearse personal projects here in my off hours. Should you choose to offer this job to me, I must surrender my posting at the Academy at the end of the term, and along with that is access to a piano and work space."

"Acceptable," he replied, thinking through his schedule, wondering if he could afford time for historically relevant conversations with her.

He had enough information to make his decision. She was capable of functioning at a high level within the embassy community. Now was the matter of housing.

"Are your living quarters near the embassy?"

"Unfortunately not, but my lease expires next week and finding housing in this part of the area should pose no difficulty."

"Dr. McGregor, I offer you this position. Should you accept, you would become an employee of our government and your housing requirements would be met within the embassy grounds, should you so desire. There would be a requirement to meet certain cultural obligations such as dietary restrictions, privacy observation, and matters of security. The monthly salary is 4,500 credits. I will provide you with the office and space for instruction and rehearsal that you require. Is there any other issue that must be addressed to assist in your decision?"

"Honestly, sir, if you are willing to provide my housing and board, the salary is too high for the job."

"The salary begins at that level," he said flatly.

"I would appreciate some time to consider the offer carefully and make certain this is the right decision."

"Please inform Soran of your choice within seventy-two hours."

"I will do."

With that, she stood, wished him peace and long life, and left. He sat at his desk thinking about the conversation when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, my friend."

Soran walked in and sat in the previously occupied chair.

"She will notify you within seventy-two hours."

"Understood."


	3. Chapter 3

Moving Day

2295.34

Sitting in her tiny apartment, Emma nursed a cup of coffee and listened to her neighbors arguing. She stared at the comm-unit. She had wanted to take the posting the moment Sarek offered it to her, but then thought making him wait a bit would be more advisable. This was a big decision.

Finally she dialed the embassy and after two ring cycles, Soran's face appeared.

"Dr. McGregor."

He noted that she had called at precisely 71 hours, 56 minutes.

"Please inform the ambassador I accept the posting, but on one final condition."

"That being?"

"I get to bring my cat."

"One moment," he requested, placing the call on hold, knocking on Sarek's office door.

"Come."

"Dr. McGregor agrees to accept the position _if_ she may bring her cat." He looked at Sarek, not really believing he had to be the bearer of that message.

"Acceptable."

Soran informed her of the ambassador's decision and then discussed the preparations for her transfer to the embassy. He saw why the ambassador had chosen her during the interview: of the five candidates, she was most sincere. Recalling recently learned vernacular, he decided the phrase 'down to Earth' applied to her.

2295.35

Emma was amazed at how smoothly the transition to the embassy had been. The most entertaining part was when three very burly Vulcans arrived to help her move. She anticipated that the move would need four hours… they took two.

As she arrived, Soran greeted her at the gates. They walked to the embassy and discussed final issues. After a visit with Security Chief Savel, and what she deemed the most thorough introduction and security screening in many years, she received her credentials. They stood in the elevator as Soran explained to her what was on each floor.

The first floor was administration, the common dining area, and held the ambassadorial offices as well as her workspace. The second floor housed offices within the purview of the Vulcan government, and was off limits. The third floor was where the elevator stopped.

"This floor houses the families who work here. There is one available suite, which I will show you now."

They walked into an apartment suite that was larger than any place she had ever lived on her own. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nicely appointed kitchen, small dining area, a comfortable den with a firepot, and a private office alcove.

They heard the men moving her belongings in and went to observe. There was a low grumbling coming from the animal carrier and the men had stopped to investigate the source.

A white paw jabbed out the front, swiping at them. They looked at it cautiously, backing up as a hiss emanated from within. She apologized, explaining that he was harmless and would be more amiable once he had settled in.

She and Soran then returned to the first floor and walked past the ambassador's office by one door. She walked into an office space that was nearly identical to Sarek's in size and design.

The secretarial office had been converted into a composition studio. The door that would have led to the office now led to an instructional facility and rehearsal space with a black baby grand nestled into a corner, along with a projector, and assorted Vulcan instruments.

"Soran, are you telling me all this is for me to use?"

"Is it insufficient?"

"No - it's perfect."

He left her to inspect her workspace more closely. After showing the men moving her materials where to put the boxes of books, Emma returned to her apartment and began to unpack, and reality began to settle in and as she wondered if she knew what she had gotten herself into, there was knock at her door.

"Dr. McGregor, do you require anything else before I cease my duties this evening?" Soran asked.

"Only a question about the gardens… are they open access, or is there a scheduled time when they're unavailable?"

"They are accessible at all times."

"Is that walking path continuous?"

"It is two miles in length," he responded.

"Understood," she answered. Just as he was turning to walk away, she spoke again. "Soran, thank you for everything."

He nodded, entering an apartment two doors past hers.

After a light supper, she decided that since the gardens were available she would go for a jog. After lacing her shoes and donning ear buds, she headed for the elevator. Once on the first floor she was greeted by Savel, the ever-present security officer, as he patrolled the halls in near darkness.

"Do you require assistance, Dr. McGregor?" he asked politely.

"Yes, actually, which door leads to the gardens, please?"

"This is the most direct path," he answered, holding the door, watching her exit.

She thanked him and walked into a lovely place, pushing play on her armband and set out.

Sarek had always appreciated the beauty of the full moon on San Francisco Bay. As the garden was not artificially lit at night, it provided an eerie hue on the grounds, which oddly reminded him of T'Khut's light-cast on the Vulcan desert near his childhood home.

Hearing footfall outside his window, he became alert to who might be in the garden after hours. While it was not forbidden, the staff all retired each evening with their families.

He then saw her jogging around a curve in the path when she began to limp, hopping on one leg and grasping at the other. He was not certain, but thought he heard an expletive muttered under her breath.

She had managed half of the trail when her right calf seized up and she could only hope that no one heard her swearing. She hopped around on her left leg and sat down to stretch it out. She did not hear him approach. He watched her carefully stretch her leg and rub the angry muscle.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

She startled abruptly, not immediately realizing she had company. "No, I am fine. I've a muscle cramp. I need to eat more bananas – need the potassium I suppose," she chuckled audibly, "and I didn't stretch enough before I started."

He inclined his head to her and walked away, disappearing around the curve. He would need to meditate on why he found it so easy to dwell on her legs. She was not petite like Amanda had been - she was tall with a strong, physical build.

He knew from her dossier that she had worked several years in the Fire-Med Corps at the Mars Colony prior to beginning her studies, and it was obvious that the physical rigor for that occupation had become habitual.

 _'I need more bananas?' Who says that?_ Emma asked herself.

After she was convinced that her leg would comply, she finished her run and returned to her apartment, finding a basket sitting outside her door, containing bananas and a holo-vid referencing appropriate stretching and exercise preparation.

The next morning, Sarek found an envelope lying on his desk. Opening it revealed a handwritten note. All it said was 'Thank You'.


	4. Chapter 4

Getting Started

Her first week was nothing short of disorienting. Everything she planned for the startup of lessons was lacking. Her student demographic was comprised of an eight-year-old, a fifteen-year-old and seven adults ranging from eighty-five to one-hundred-ninety years of age. They did not need the same prompting that her Terran students did.

Week Two found her feeling more in control of her classroom - not that they were out of control. By the end of it, she found herself fitting in quite well. She sat at her desk finalizing her weekly report and turned to her inbox, delighted in the fact it was finally empty.

She picked up the piece of paper that had been following her for more than two years: the last poem she translated under Amanda Grayson's instruction, completed in January, 2293. It was the only assignment she never received corrections for. Her mind went to a conversation she had with her uncle when he came to visit her in February of that same year…

 _She was still living in Boston and preparing for her oral exams to complete her master's degree in Xenomusicology. Her uncle Ken arrived with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and lunch in the other._

 _"Hello, my favorite niece. How're you?" he smiled as she hugged him and invited him inside._

 _"I am fine, and I am your_ _only_ _niece. Thank you for the flowers! They're lovely. How was your trip?"_

 _"A little bumpy, but tolerable. How are the preparations for your orals coming?"_

 _"Fine, I just want to get them over with," she said, serving the Chinese take-out for them. She pulled two bottles of Newcastle out of the fridge and handed him one. "Chinese and ale – it's an amazing combination. Its character building, I think." She smiled at him._

 _They sat down to eat and talked about family, books, home – it was refreshing to hear her native Gaelic, see her kin, and know that she was not alone in things. In a moment between bites and conversation, she spoke._

 _"I need your advice on something."_

 _"What?" he asked, giving up on the chopsticks and picking up a fork instead._

 _"Well, I am not certain how to address an issue. Being that you are my_ _favorite_ _uncle, you would know how to handle this."_

 _He interrupted her teasingly. "I am your_ _only_ _uncle."_

 _"I know, its funny how that works." She laughed._

 _"Seriously though, I normally meet with my Vulcan tutor once every two weeks via subspace, and submit my assignments and corrections to her through normal channels. Well, my last assignment came back unread, and she did not call in for our meeting last week. It's kind of odd; Dr. Grayson is very punctual, and if things change, she lets me know. Should I call her or wait?"_

 _It suddenly dawned on Ken that Emma did not know, but then how would she? She was not in the loop of the gossip mill at the diplomatic corps headquarters. He put his fork down, took a long drink of ale, and cleared his throat._

 _"Emma, a call will not be necessary. How long ago did you send that assignment to her?"_

 _"Three weeks ago," she was confused at his question. "Why?"_

 _"Amanda Grayson died two weeks ago. I am sorry you didn't know - it never occurred to us to tell you." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently._

 _"I see. I am very sorry to hear that."_

 _Her thought faded midsentence. Her vegetable lo mein stared up at her, daring her to take another bite. All she could do was push it aside._

 _Ken sat back, concerned. He could not believe neither he nor Will had remembered to tell Emma when they received the news of Amanda's death. The ambassador's aide, Soran, had called them directly._

 _They had been finalizing the editing of her forward to the book they were writing. When they received the news, they chose to leave the forward in her original, unedited format. It seemed to be the most appropriate way to honor the voice of such a remarkable person._

 _"You all right?"_

 _She nodded quietly, not meeting his gaze._

 _"I have lost my appetite."_

 _"I can stay a while, unless you would rather be alone?"_

 _"I think I need some time by myself."_

 _"I understand. Here is my code at the hotel. You call me if you need anything, ok?"_

 _She nodded and took the chip from him. He stood and hugged her, kissing the top of her head, then left._

 _Boston was a cold place to be in February, and on this particular evening, she sat on her tiny balcony, wrapped up in her plaid blanket her thoughts swirling like the snowfall around her. A tight knot began to form in her chest, her heart aching for her friend._

 _As she heard people walking on the street below, laughing and talking together, Emma had to suppress the urge to demand their silence and reverence for the memory of a woman whose influence was so profound, whose life-work had been so impacting._

 _She thought of something valuable that she could smash against a wall, but immediately knew it would only make the hurt stop for a moment, returning even worse, and she would have a mess to clean up, so she bundled tighter in her tartan instead._

 _Amanda was a kindred spirit with Emma. She was frighteningly smart and she took grief from no one. In her written communications, Amanda would often ask about Earth, Scotland…anything that allowed her a small taste of the planet she'd left behind._

 _"Emma, I have no regrets about leaving Earth behind to be with Sarek. None at all – but I do miss home sometimes. I don't travel as much as I used to," she said one afternoon following a lesson. "Tell me about Skye. I have never been there, but I understand it's lovely!"_

 _They talked of books, gardens, oceans, Robert Burns, love, life…Amanda was someone Emma could relate to, and now she was gone._

 _Hot, anguished tears ran across her face. She was angry – outraged by her ignorance of the event. She owed such a debt she could never be able to repay. She admonished herself for missing the opportunity to simply say 'thanks'. She had taken for granted that opportunity would come again…not now, it wouldn't._

Eventually driven inside to warm her cold-numbed toes, she wrapped up in her duvet on the couch, pouring over all of their communications from the past six years. In a way, it was as if a portion of Amanda was preserved for Emma to revisit when she needed the wisdom and counsel of her friend-now-gone.

As she read page after page, she could hear Amanda's voice in her mind – sometimes soft and gentle, other times irritated and frustrated with her. She thought of a short conversation they had the previous December…

… _"Emma, how can you not have met someone by now? Amanda asked, incredulously. "What about that guy, oh, what's-his-face… Martin?"_

 _"He was a toad, Amanda, but not the kind worth kissing. Honestly, I've met several, but I haven't met_ him _yet. But when we do meet, I will know," Emma smiled._

 _"Then I will know, right?" Amanda teased._

 _"Absolutely you will."_

 _The memory faded quickly as Emma plunged headlong into heavy sleep, her dreams confused and bleary…_

As she sat at her desk in the embassy, Emma thought about her departed friend and mentor. Amanda had been one of a select few teachers in life that had not washed their hands of her when she surpassed their expectations. Amanda had challenged her. She knew about Amanda's upfront and no-holds-barred approach to teaching. There was no mercy for error, even at what happened to be their last lesson…

… _"Emma, you have got to come out of the brogue. It's affecting your pronunciation. I am always in support of 'getting your Scottish pride on', but this has got to get better. I am not happy about this at all," Amanda snapped with irritation._

 _"Yes ma'am." It was all Emma could say._

 _It was not a matter of cultural pride; it was simply her accent, and it was in the way. A tiny part of her wanted to tell Amanda why it was so difficult to let it go. She felt afraid to put it down, even temporarily, as if she would never find it again._

 _Emma also knew it was not her place to correct her instructor, so she submitted to Amanda's criticisms. She worried she would be released from the lessons if she did not meet the standards Amanda was setting._

 _Amanda took a deep breath and willed herself to relax. She wanted to be easier on the girl, but the pronunciations had to improve. This would not do at all._

 _"Listen to how it sounds:_ _poo-low_ _,as in 'ow, that hurt',_ _nah-vah-thoo-lahr kuh-nook_ _, 'as in book'," she continued. Emma tried again, and it was already better._

 _"Now translate," she instructed._

 _Emma thought for a moment, and replied. "Reach out to people with courtesy?"_

 _"Incorrect, 'Reach out to_ _others_ _courteously_ _'. Don't neglect the adverb form. Emma, please excuse me a moment."_

 _Amanda walked out of the office she shared with Sarek and headed toward the kitchen for a drink of water. They encountered each other in the living room. He'd sensed her frustration and was on his way to the office with a glass of water for her, thinking it might help._

 _"Sarek, you read my mind. Thank you." She kissed his cheek and took the glass from him._

 _"I have done for many years, Amanda. I fail to understand why this continues to surprise you," he replied with the smile that was just for her._

 _She laughed at him gently._

 _"_ Aduna _, am I to understand that she is still struggling with vowels?" he asked, gently moving a silver strand of hair from her face and tucking it away behind her ear._

 _"Yes, she is. It's not as if she was unprepared. If that were the case, I would harbor no shame in my heart for being so tough on her." She took a long drink._

 _"She is improving._ _I_ _hear the difference," he said. She nodded and they walked back to the office together._

 _He sat at his desk, adjacent to Amanda's, and worked silently as the lesson continued even though progress was slow, but evident. He wrote down a specific teaching of Surak they had not worked through yet, and handed Amanda the slip of paper, touching her hand as she took it from him. Her expression softened, and she decided to use it._

 _"This time, translate from Standard to Golic, please," she said._

 _Emma nodded, pencil ready to write._

 _"We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of us."_

 _Sarek heard furious scribbling over the com-link as Emma worked out the translation; quietly sounding out each word, arranging grammar, and catching herself in errors midsentence. While she waited, Amanda reached to his hand and held it in hers._

 _"Ok, I think I have it." Emma paused. "Here it goes:_ Ma etek natyar – teretuhr lau etek shetau lo'uk _…_ _no, ah yes…_ weh-lo'uk do tum t'on _." She looked at Amanda expectantly. Sarek nodded in satisfaction: she had corrected the incomplete word, and her vowels were nearly perfect. An excellent student indeed, he thought to himself._

 _"Very good work," Amanda smiled at her, "and unfortunately we are out of time. I will send a communication with my thoughts for today and your next assignment. Also, please send that last poem to me as soon as you can – the one by T'Valdena. It's one of my favorites, and I am looking forward to your perspective on it."_

 _"Yes ma'am, and thank you for your patience," Emma replied._

 _"Emma, it was good today, but I expect_ _much better_ _next time." Amanda nodded and ended the call._


	5. Chapter 5

**That's Unfortunate**

Emma sighed at that memory, and dialed the number of her former graduate studies adviser at Harvard, Theo Sandburg.

" _Dr_. McGregor, how are you?" he asked.

"Fine, thank you, sir. How is Harvard?"

"Just as you left it. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I am following up on our last six conversations," she said.

He looked away, knowing what she meant, and that he was going to have to answer her sooner or later.

She continued. "May I please have the name of the person who donated the scholarship to assist in my language studies before my doctoral work? I need to offer my thanks – it was an enormous donation, and shouldn't go unacknowledged, especially this long."

"Why don't you send the communication to me I will deliver it to them?" he asked, trying to keep her at bay with the questioning.

"No sir, I can't do that. It wouldn't be appropriate. I get the distinct impression that you don't want to give it me. Why?"

"Emma, you aren't gonna like this; please don't be angry with me." He took a deep breath, and continued. "There was no scholarship. While we paid for your outgoing communications to Dr. Grayson, she and her husband paid for theirs."

He cringed inwardly, but no angry response came. In its stead was something he deemed much worse – stunned silence. She was turning an interesting shade of red.

Hot and flushed with embarrassment, she finally responded. "Did you just say that Dr. Grayson and Ambassador Sarek paid for six years worth of _incoming_ subspace calls?"

He nodded. She leaned forward toward the com-unit.

" _Six years worth_!" she repeated emphatically, barely above a whisper. The right corner of her mouth twitched lightly downward as she tried to control her anger. "You _lied_ to me."

"Emma, they recognized a good investment in your future, to ensure you had the training you required. Rest assured they didn't do that for other students."

He paused a moment. "We knew you wouldn't accept the assistance under those conditions, so we all agreed to treat it as if it were a scholarship. I am sorry. I see now it should've been handled differently."

She rubbed her temples as a headache began pounding. "Ok. That is what I needed to know. Thank you for telling me."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I just – sir, I work for him now. How do I look him in the eye, knowing this?"

She was already looking up the total amount of time they spent in their subspace communications, and then compared that to the average rates. At 52,000 credits, give or take, the 'investment in her future' was overwhelmingly nauseating.

"You- wait, you got the Directorship?"

"Yes, I did. I started last Monday; it's where I am calling from." She felt sick to her stomach.

"I interviewed for that job in January. Congratulations, Emma. If I have to lose to someone, I prefer you, even if you might not speak to me for a very long time." He looked at her sheepishly.

"Dr. Sandburg, thank you. I need to go." She ended the call and immediately dialed Soran's extension.

"Yes?"

"Is the Ambassador available today? I would speak with him at his earliest convenience," she said, matter-of-factly.

"He is available at 1630 hours. Shall I schedule you then?"

"Yes."

Soran nodded and she ended the call abruptly.

She got busy calculating the length of her subspace conversations, gathering billing information to estimate. Once she rechecked her figures, and she verified that she had enough credits in her savings to pay it off completely.

It was a good thing her room and board was included at the embassy, otherwise, she might not be eating very much for a while. She looked at the clock and saw it was 1628 hours. She walked out of her office and around the corner into Soran's. He opened Sarek's office door for her and closed it quietly behind her.

She stood silently in front of his desk as he finished writing out a thought on a trade proposal and then acknowledged her.

"Dr. McGregor, would you care to sit down?"

"No sir. At the moment, I prefer to stand."

He looked at her for a moment. She reminded him of Amanda refusing to sit when she was particularly irritated with him. Emma looked upset, but he did not know what could have caused this.

"As you wish."

"Thank you for accommodating a last-minute appointment. I must rectify an issue that has just come to my attention. I was _grossly_ misinformed about the funding for my linguistic tutoring as a graduate student. Dr. Grayson and I would exchange subspace calls every two weeks.

"I knew that Harvard was funding my outgoing calls. My graduate studies adviser _told_ me there was a scholarship donated to pay for the incoming calls. I learned today that you and Dr. Grayson were paying for them from your own resources," she paused, unable to meet his gaze.

He listened carefully to what she was and was _not_ saying, a skill that Amanda taught him to use when working with humans. As irrational as it was to him, humans would speak volumes in what they withheld from a conversation.

"Over the course of two years and seven conversations, I have been trying to get the donor so I could offer my thanks. I am _not_ happy about how he handled that. I always prefer honesty to deceit intended to shelter my pride.

"I made the best calculations I could, based upon the frequency, duration, and time of the calls over six years. My estimate is 52,485 credits. It's as exact as I can get with the information I have access to," she said quietly.

She handed him the PADD with her calculations. His memory told him she had estimated too high…the actual amount was 49,965.

"Dr. McGregor, my wife and I agreed that the cost was more than justifiable. I do not understand why this has affected you negatively."

"Your part in the matter is not the source of my frustration. It's the way it was presented to me at university. With sincerest respect, I can pay my own way. I have the funds to repay this debt. I'd have done sooner had I known the truth of the matter," she said honestly.

She hesitated, quelling a surge of sorrow. "I also wish to offer my condolences, even though they are _very_ late. I didn't even know that Dr. Grayson had died until three weeks after the fact. I found out from my uncle. I know it's illogical, but I thought I had displeased her with my performance during my last lesson," she said softly.

Sarek remembered that lesson.

"I sent my last translation assignment in for her critique and it was returned to me, unopened. Then she did not make the call for our meeting in February," she finished.

She was filled with sadness, and it was the first time he was able to sense a projected feeling from her. She was normally very well shielded, but today's stress had evidently been enough to interfere with her control. As good as hers was, this moment was a stark reminder to him that she was still human.

"Dr. McGregor, please sit." He stood quietly, indicating they sit at the conference table.

He did not understand her obvious feelings of guilt over mistakes in a lesson. It is expected that students make mistakes. Amanda had been quite pleased with her progress, even if she was given to outwardly expressing her frustrations with Emma frequently.

She nodded quietly. He sat across from her, observing her behavior. She was hopelessly trying to stifle tears that were already spilling over. What she said next reinforced his observation of her previous instructor's attitudes when he had investigated her as a candidate for the position.

"The last thing I want is that my inattention to detail was the reason she ceased to teach me. She was my mentor, my _O'savensu_. She was the only one that did not give up on me."

He reflected upon the moment Amanda's spirit ceased to be, remembering the searing agony caused by the severing of their bond. He took a deep and carefully controlled breath, answering her in his native tongue.

" _Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim._ "

She translated in her mind: _there is no offense where none is taken_. She nodded gratefully, drying her eyes.

He then continued quietly. "Dr. McGregor, I would share some information with you."

"Please call me Emma," she requested.

"Amanda spoke to me of you once. She respected your studious nature, your desire for mastery of my language. She held you in high regard, it is why she was so assertive with you during instructional sessions.

"I know that caused her desire to bring you to a plane of accomplishment that awaited you. You challenged her abilities. She thrived on that challenge. She had to work hard to teach you. Her physical decline was sudden, and in the last days of her life she was under medical supervision, ordered to bed. I assure you that she did not intentionally ignore your work. I know of which poem you speak. It is by T'Valdena, is it not?"

"Yes, how did you know?" she asked.

"It was the only one of your translations I could not access prior to your job interview. I read the other 1,562," he answered.

She just looked at him, not sure of how to respond to someone who read seven hundred eighty-one poems a month. She wondered what he did in his spare time.

"Is it available? I would find it acceptable to complete the reading."

She stood and went to her office, picking up the handwritten copy of it from her desk. All of her notes, scribbles, thoughts – bared for him to see. She returned and handed it to him before she sat. As he read it aloud, Sarek carefully considered her choices for colloquial expression.

 _Ya'akash Nash-veh Skasu Yuzhat Ashaya T'Nash-veh_

Deal Gently With My Love

Buine Gu Caoimhneil Rimoghaol

by T'Valdena, of Kwil'nor, Hanshir Province, Early Reform, [No. 1563]

(Translated into FSE and Scots Gaelic by Emma C. McGregor – January, 2293)

1] _Sporun T'Valdena t'koveh nahp t'ashaya_ :

The Maiden exclaimed with her voice of Love:

Bhris le guth a gràidh an òigh:

2] _Uf vaksuric t'dular kashek – weh-lo'uk ha'ge-Nevasa – mak nikhlar t'nash-veh!_

How majestic is your countenance – more beautiful than the light of Nevasa - delight of my eyes!

Cia mór a mheinn – b'annsa thusa na dearr sadh na Nevasa - miann mo shùl!

3] _U'vlitaya nar-tor katra t'nash-veh, t'du-polau fundauik k'tun_.

In ransom for my soul, you received me well and treated me hospitably.

An éirig m'anama, rinn e gle mhath dhion.

4] _T'du-ashaya t'nash-veh taluk, namautau ek'kosular._

Your love for me is wonderful, surpassing all other women.

B'ionganatch do gràdh dhomsa, a toirt barrachd air gràdh nam ban.

5] _Di'kizh-tor ashaya t'dular, nash-veh gluvan fonn'es, t'nash-veh k'diwa t'ek'sasular!_

In return for your love, I have shown my faithfulness, My Beloved, of all other men!

An éirig a graidh, do dhìlseachd chuin mian céill, a chiall de na fearaibh!

Emma's translations tended to profoundly involve interpersonal intimacy, whether it was physical, emotional, intellectual, even spiritual. Her mastery of the language was quite thorough. He would meditate upon this translation later in the evening.

"She would be pleased. It certainly has your translation style in it," he paused. "It is curious to me how Surak is applicable today as he was during his life." He looked at her directly.

"What do you mean, sir?" she asked.

"You may address me as Sarek during personal conversations," he said. " _Nam-tor wak vah yut s'vesht na'fa' wak heh pla'rak_."

He waited for her to translate.

"Time is a path from the past to the future, and back again?"

"Correct. Regarding the cost, I ask you honor Amanda's desire to provide for your education. I do not consider you in my debt and I deem the matter closed."

He waited for her acknowledgement, continuing when it came. "I desire to schedule a weekly meeting with you to discuss socio-political influences on Terran artistic practices."

"That would be interesting, Sarek," she answered.

"Perhaps we may begin with 'Guernica'?" he asked. "My schedule will accommodate Wednesday afternoons at 1600 hours," he finished.


	6. Chapter 6

Didn't See That Coming

2295.64

Four months in, Emma was delightfully busy, working as many as sixteen hours in a day. The challenges of launching the first phase of the Directive were complicated, but progressing well.

Her students built proficiency faster than expected. In a few months they would join the Ministry ensembles even as people thought it would not happen for years. Her students were tenacious, just how she liked them to be.

On a beautiful Wednesday morning she perched at her computer terminal with a cup of Jamaican Blue coffee, her office window open. The weather was beautiful, the sky clear, and a nice breeze blew softly across the gardens drawing in the scent of every flowering plant into her private little world.

She prepared for the day's lessons, followed by lunch, and then her favorite part of nearly every Wednesday: an hour with the ambassador. Today's topic was Tchaikovsky, the Overture to 1812, and restrictions against its performance by the Russian government for its debut.

It was an odd arrangement, their meetings… his intellect was formidable, reasoning and logic challenging her to go beyond the surface of the topic at hand, a challenge she gladly accepted. Most meetings found the depth of conversation a friendly debate, with each taking a philosophical stand paradoxically different from one another.

She was grateful for the intensity, and that he sought amicable understanding. Their conversation was meaningful and thought-provoking, his questions often seeking to understand the irrational nature of human decision making, and conflict resolution. He openly acknowledged the differences and the benefits.

That would usually get a discussion started involving differing perspective, and once she started in response, he would just listen, interjecting only when necessary. She figured this out in the second meeting, but it was an enjoyable experience, and allowed it to continue. Few were willing to go beyond that first quarter inch in discussion, and she craved each opportunity.

Had he been human, she would have thought him seeking extra time just to spend with her, but he was Vulcan, and she knew too little of this facet of Vulcan etiquette to address it with him. She had also figured out the enticing scent she encountered the day of her interview was a natural one for a Vulcan male. All males at the embassy had a version of it, but his was the only one that affected her. Taking a sip, she realized all the others had bond-mates.

She had never considered a relationship with an extraterrestrial, and was not xenophobic, it had just never crossed her mind. A lingering certainity settled in her mind he would not be interested, so she chose to let it rest.

She knew several gifted professional men and women who lived solitary lives, devoted to their work, choosing to exclude intimate relationships as they were a distraction. Over the years, she had begun to entertain the idea for herself, as interpersonal intimacy had become burdensome after the death of her son and husband. It hurt too much to keep trying, especially when so many found her to not be what they wanted, so she chose self-protection instead.

A federation council special envoy arrived at the embassy gates.

"I will speak with Dr. Emma McGregor," a tall man said, offering his identification card to the guards as the other two men stood behind him.

Savel questioned him carefully. "Do you have an appointment? She is currently engaged with her students."

"No, I do not, however this is a matter of importance."

"As are her students," Savel replied, exercising the Vulcan tendency for brevity. "She has requested to not be interrupted while teaching. May I deliver the message to her in your stead?"

"Unfortunately, my instructions are to deliver it directly into her hands. I am required to return with a reply, sir."

Savel looked at him pointedly, and then dialed Soran's office comm-unit. Speaking in Vulcan, he explained the situation to him.

"Soran, _skladasular t'Teraya na'O'savensu_ McGregor.

" _Na'stariben_?" Soran asked.

" _Ri-fainusu Shilaik Tek'ik_."

Soren thought for a moment, remembering the conversation before Emma's interview. The Ministry of Xenosocial Affairs meant only one thing.

"I will be there momentarily."

Sarek was heaed to his office when stopped by Soran. "Osu, The ministry for Xenosocial Affairs has sent a messenger for Dr. McGregor."

"Escort them to my office. I shall advise her."

As Soran went to escort them inside, Sarek went in search of her, and it being 12:15, he chose to begin his search in the common area. Sure enough, she was sitting at her favorite table. She kept a tightly consistent schedule.

"Emma, you will accompany me now."

When they arrived at Sarek's office, Soran and the Council visitors were waiting in the entry.

"Dr. McGregor, my name is Darian Kol. I am the assistant to the Minister of Xenosocial Affairs".

"Good Afternoon."

"I have a directive request from the Minister for you," he stood and approached her with an envelope. She opened the envelope and read the letter carefully.

 _Dear Dr. McGregor,_

 _The artistic community within the Federation recently suffered the loss of a tremendous voice, that of Shiyoran Ka'alte. For 77 years, he served cultural growth by performing the duties of Composer Laureate to the Federation. His death six months ago marked the end of an era of extraordinary progress with regards to cultural understanding between the members of the United Federation of Planets._

 _The Council has very carefully evaluated all possibilities, and arrived at the unanimous conclusion that you are the most appropriate nomination for this lifelong position. Duties of the office include annual composition, directorship of performance, and pursuance of continued cultural awareness and understanding between existing Federation members and new applicants. The position carries with it an initial yearly salary of 150,000 credits. Your duties may be performed from any Federation member planet._

 _The messenger bearing this communication is required to return with your reply._

 _Sincerest Regards,_

 _Olsen Tecka_

 _Minister of Xenosocial Affairs_

She read it again, with so many others with much more experience and ability should have been considered, but if they had chosen her, their reasons must have been justifiable. The thought of joinging those who represented the creative arts for the Federation was wholly satisfying – to be the first Terran, even more so.

She picked up her stylus and marked the acceptance letter, producing her distinctive signature, and sealed it, handing Mr. Kol the envelope.

"Thank you for delivering this to me today."

"It is my pleasure. Thank you for your time," he replied.

The three men turned and left. Logic told him what had just happened, but Sarek waited for her to tell them.

"I have been named Composer Laureate," she said quietly, not sure how she really felt about it.

"Congratulations, _O'tertitayek_ ," he replied.


	7. Chapter 7

The Hearths of My Kin

2295.714

Emma was deep in thought when her comm-unit roused her back to reality. She answered, greatly pleased to see her father's face on the view screen. He smiled at her, his dark green eyes sparkling at his only child.

"My girl! How are you?" his deep bass rumbled loudly.

"Haló Da, I am well. You? How's Mum?"

In the background she heard her mother shout a greeting.

"She would be civil and come say hello, but she's kneading bread dough at the moment. I don't want to have the repairman come out to fix _that_ a second time." He laughed.

Her mother was heard threatening him mildly for defaming her character in front of their daughter.

"This is unexpected, it's not Sunday afternoon," Emma said, feeling a bit ornery.

"You see, that is why you got the doctorate. _You_ can read a calendar. It makes me so proud," he said, feeling feisty.

Emma knew that meant all was well on the Isle. She scoffed at him and laughed.

"I wish to inform you _The Progeniture_ has been asked to perform at the Edinburgh Tattoo next month. It's late, but they have made time on the final night for us. The Chief asked if you'd be with us."

"What is the date of the performance?" she asked, accessing her calendar. "I would love to perform with the clan guard. It's been too long."

"Indeed it has. It'll be the last Saturday night performance, umm, the 24th," he replied. "Also, they know about your being named laureate, and I think they are feeling rather prideful that the first Terran appointed is a Scot."

He loved his daughter dearly, but wished she were closer. A lot of time had passed since she had been home, and he was not getting any younger.

"My schedule is clear most of that week, except for my regular students. What if I come in on Wednesday the 21st?" she offered.

"That should be fine. I will get the music to you by tomorrow evening, ok?"

"That's fine, Da. How's the rest of the family?"

"Everyone's fine. Skye's always beautiful."

"Ok, well, please tell everyone hello for me."

"Will do. Emma?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I love you dearly, child. I am looking forward to seeing you," he said. He leaned into the comm-unit, lowering his voice. "Um, your mother misses you, a lot. Do you think you might come home more often? I know she would never say; she's not wantin' ya to feel bad about it or anything."

He got quiet as Anna walked in drying her hands off on a kitchen towel, showing them for his approval.

"Hello Emma! I managed to get dough inside the thing last time."

She fussed at Will a moment. "Would ya go away? Can I not speak to my daughter alone?" she teased.

He grumbled, waved at Emma and then left the room.

"Hi Mum. Da's feeling his oats today I see."

"Yeah, he is. About that," she said quietly into the comm-unit, "do you think you might be able to find time to visit more frequently? I only say 'cause your father does miss you. It bothers him to not see you very often.

Emma sat back, pondering the conspiracy that was taking place. Rather than question them, she decided to comply. "I will endeavor so, Mum," she conceded.

"I, erm, he'd love that. Anyway, gotta go, and _we_ will see you in August," she said, and blew a kiss at Emma, ending the call.

Emma looked at the blank screen. They could play her like a cheap guitar, and they knew it, but five years was too long. She sent a message to each student whose lesson was affected by the change that week, and then stepped into Soran's office to find he was not there. Sarek's office door was open, so she knocked gently.

Sarek saw her standing in the doorway. They had met regularly for months now, and often his mind would not only engage in the conversation, but simply take in her intelligence. He presented her with many well-prepared arguments to extend the time they had. He thougth she had become aware of this, but was uncertain she would understand why. Certainly she would have made it clear if she did not prefer it.

Each meeting, conversation, opportunity was a fresh breath of life in his private world. He had an acceptable understanding of Terran history, but hearing it from her perspective – well, it was new. He sought time with her beyond the scope of her duties, and she obliged each request he made of her, giving no indication that it was burdensome.

"Enter, please," he invited.

"Sarek, forgive the intrusion, but I need to reschedule our meeting of 21 August," she said softly. She noticed he had begun using human pleasantries with her in the past few months.

"You commit no intrusion. May I ask why you must reschedule?" he asked, opening his calendar. He found it decidedly unsatisfactory to miss one now, as a major trade negotiation would already interfere with their entire September schedule.

"I've been invited to perform with my clan's honor guard at the Edinburgh Tattoo that weekend. I'll also see my family for the first time several years, so I plan to be there a few days."

"Would Tuesday the 20th be acceptable? I am in contract negotiation at Starfleet Headquarters that day," he said scanning his availability. "Would an evening appointment be acceptable?"

"Certainly, and thank you," She smiled and left.

2295.820

At her lunch break, Emma sent a message to Sarek, confirming their appointment for that evening.

 _I thought perhaps we could share end-meal this evening during our appointment. Please advise if this is acceptable._

 _Emma_

She doubted herself for the message, when a reply came almost immediately. She looked at it, afraid it would be a rejection. Either way, at least she would know if she had been inappropriate.

 _I would be honored. I shall meet you at your quarters._

 _Sarek_

She felt heat flush across her face, and smiled privately.

At the end of her day, she went looking for Savel and found him at the primary security desk.

"Excuse me, Savel," she said quietly.

"Yes, _O'savensu_?"

"I will travel to Scotland from Wednesday through Sunday evening. May I have your permission to request T'Naara care for my cat while I'm away?" she asked.

"My daughter has quite an affinity for him. She will attend him appropriately," he replied.

"Thank you, Savel," she smiled.

He inclined his head to her and returned to his duties monitoring the security feeds as Emma sent T'Naara a message regarding Jake's needs for the duration of her journey. She knew the child would rigorously see to his health and care while she was away.

Stepping into the hallway, Sarek's nose twitched at the smell of a preferred casserole. He followed the wafting scent to her door and knocked. She welcomed him inside.

"Would you care for anything to drink?" she asked.

"Water, please."

He stepped into her living room, perusing the shelves of photographs that stood at its entrance. He recognized her father Will from years past in the diplomatic corps, and for the dark green eyes she had clearly inherited. Her uncle Ken was in another with a lovely woman, a son, and a daughter.

There were various photos of Emma as a baby. One that grabbed Sarek's attention was of Will lying supine, with six–month-old Emma sitting proudly on his chest looking quite satisfied, red fuzz on her head and a toothless grin. ' _Emma Conquers Da, July 2257'_.

He gingerly picked up a faded photograph taken in the moments after Emma's birth. An exhausted, happy Anna held her moments-old daughter, who was visibly smiling up at her.

Examing each picture carefully, Sarek realized that Emma had entered the universe with a most pleasing disposition. Her joy permeated life, surrounding her family. He realized that particular interaction - that endearing, engaging smile - was only shared with those she regarded affectionately.

He then understood that she gave it freely to him each day. Perhaps it was not of the question.

She walked quietly into the living room with his glass in hand to find him absorbed in the photographs. "Your water," she said, handing him the glass.

"You strongly resemble your mother, but inherited your father's eye color."

"Yes, and his build, unfortunately; he is six feet three inches tall," she chuckled.

He found her build to be satisfactory, not understanding the perception of misfortune.

She gestured toward the seating area, and after he sat on the sofa, she curled up in her favorite chair. They began a conversation about the effects that global pandemics and a world war had on the Terran artistic community from 1900 through 1918, then moved to the dining area when the time announced their meal ready. Eating in silence was still something that she still was not entirely accustomed to.

Afterward he asked about her homeland. "Edinburgh is in the southeast of Scotland?" he asked.

"Yes, in the lowlands," she replied. His scent permeated the room, and she mentally indulged in it.

"Where is Edinburgh in relation to your home?"

"Skye is one of the larger islands that make up the Inner Hebrides, off the far west coast of the highlands. It is directly across the Strait of Kyle Akin, from Urqhart Castle. Would you mind if we moved to the den?"

Sarek followed her back to the living room and watched her expertly light the firepot. He found her wardrobe quite pleasing: a muted heather blouse that slightly revealed the definition of strong shoulders, the softness of her back, and the gentle slope of her breasts.

Her faun trousers settled gently on her hips just below her waistline, and he promptly brought his mind back to where he deemed it should be as she sat in her chair. It was very quiet for a moment.

"Sarek, have you received any feedback from the students? It is difficult to get input from them," she asked him.

"It is uncustomary to criticize the behavior and methods of their instructors, unless those actions are illogical or irrational," he began. "However, I have spoken with each of them over the past several months, and they are satisfied with the instruction they receive from you."

"Oh, I see. Would you share any of the ideas they might have had?"

"They have one consistent comment on your teaching methods. Each of them expects greater challenge than you provide. I believe this due to your lack of experience teaching Vulcans." He paused, thinking for a moment. "It is ironic that they seek from you what you have always sought from your own teachers: a greater challenge."

"Indeed," she answered. "I never thought of it that way. I can provide them with much more, and that is certain."

"I have a question on a different topic, if I may," he began. "How does one gain entrance to the tattoo this Saturday night?" he asked.

"Well, one doesn't, at least not now. The tattoo sells out well in advance, often several years so. Why?"

"The Madrossian trade negotiation schedule has been moved three weeks later than originally planned. I saw an opportunity to satiate my curiosity regarding Terran military pageantry," he answered.

His words fell on her ears like manna from Heaven. She built up her courage and spoke, willing herself to remain at ease, at least visibly. "I think I may have a possible option: you would be a welcomed guest of our clan," she said evenly. "My family would be honored by your visit."

"Your travel arrangements?"

"I was going to take public transport to Ireland and then shuttle over in the morning," she replied.

"We shall utilize the embassy shuttle.?"

Piloting the shuttle in over the western coast of Scotland, toward the port city of Kyleakin, Sarek noted the stunning beauty of the land beneath them: sharp, rocky hillsides of extraordinary green, with intense purple heather scattered across the landscape. The sapphire blue sky was dotted with soft, white clouds speckled by the flight of seagulls.

He glanced at an escarpment near the landing pad to see several puffins lined up on the edge looking down at them. He had read about them as he researched the Hebrides, but had never seen them in their natural environment.

Emma looked out of the shuttle window as they made their final approach to land. The beauty of her homeland had faded in her memory, and this renewal was a welcomed relief: the water, tidy, white-washed homes, the black peat coastline, fishing boats docked and quiet.

Once the shuttle landed, she disembarked and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air. She reached down and pick up her bag, walking toward her family waiting just off to the side.

"Emma, welcome home," Will said, hugging **her** tightly. "It's been far too long."

"Thanks, Da." She turned to Sarek.

"Sir, this is my father, William McLeod, and my mother, Anna."

"Peace and long life, Dr. McLeod," Sarek said, raising his hand in the _ta'al_.

"Welcome to Skye. Please call me Will. It's good to finally meet you. All my years in the Diplomatic Corps and it takes a visit here to have a conversation," Will laughed, congenially.

"Indeed. I thank you for your hospitality."

"Welcome," Anna smiled at him. "We are very happy you have come to visit with us."

Sarek saw where Emma's beauty came from. Her mother was graceful, soft spoken, and gentle. Emma certainly reflected those qualities.

"I am Anna, by the way. The rest of the family will be at the house for supper tonight. Em, I am so glad to see you, Darling."

Sarek watched as she cupped her daughter's face in her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead, and hugged her.

Fifteen minutes later, the flitter pulled into the drive at Emma's family home. Five years _had_ been too long. She stood and looked at the ancient house, a family icon for more than nine generations. It seemed to smile at her in welcome. Her mother stood next to her, putting her arm around her daughter's waist.

Will had been explaining the family history of the land and home to Sarek, but stopped midsentence and observed them. Sarek looked to see what had distracted him so, and understood. The McLeod women were standing side by side, arms around each other's waists, hips cocked off to the right side.

"I love those women," Will said, half to himself.

The men continued toward the back of the house. Will was particularly eager to show Sarek the family garden. It had been designed to utilize a condensation catchment model developed on Vulcan that eliminated ninety-three percent of water loss in irrigation.

Anna turned to Emma and said, "Emma, I love this house; but, I love that you are here even more. Would you please check the bread in the oven and take his bags up?"

Emma walked in, greeted by the smell of Anna's famous rye bread. She took it out of the oven and set it to cool on the counter. The comm-unit chimed loudly, startling her. She walked to the unit to find it covered in flour, with dried rye dough on the keypad. She cleaned it off as she answered it.

"Emma! You're early! How'd you get here so fast. I thought you'd be in late afternoon." Her aunt Murron smiled at the sight of her.

"The ambassador asked to view the tattoo Saturday, and was kind enough to shuttle us in this morning," she answered.

Murron look at her pointedly.

"What?"

"Hmm. Where is your mother?" She asked, her gaze scrutinizing her neice.

"They're showing Sarek the gardens," she said.

"He has a name, I see," she said, smiling at her.

Emma looked at her carefully, remaining silent. She knew never to give any information to Murron… she was wicked smart.

"Emma, what is going on with him?"

"Nothing, Murron, seriously," she said. That did not mean she wasn't hopeful of it, though.

"Fine, don't talk then - I'll find out sooner or later. Tell your mother the lamb will be done by 1700 hours," she instructed.

Emma nodded, and her aunt continued. "So, he's a Vulcan?" she asked.

"What's your point?"

"Simply that he's vegetarian, and I will bring a good assortment of veggies for him this evening – unless someone else would like to cook for him."

She was enjoying this far too much.

"Goodbye."

Emma was only mildly disgusted by the teasing, and yes, she wanted to cook for him. So what? She only hoped it was not that obvious to everyone else. Glancing out the window, she saw them walking through the gardens, Will doing what her mother called 'waving of arms and pointing at things importantly'.

Picking up Sarek's bags, took them to the guest room on the second floor, set out an electric teapot on the desk and filled it with water, restocking the selection of teas to include a Vulcan variety from the embassy.

Then she went to her room. Her mother's sense of nostalgia had not waned over the years: the awards she'd received in school were still on the shelf over her desk, the pictures Emma had drawn for them still on the walls. She drew back the curtains, opening the windows allowing fresh air into the room as she made her bed.

Sarek found himself again enjoying Terran architechture. The door opened to a keeping room with the largest fireplace he had ever seen. Made of tremendous hearthstones, it filled the _entire_ north wall. He investigated a basket filled with soft, brown bricks and an unusual, earthy scent. He then turned to the two walls with full length built-in book cases.

The shelves were completely filled with books, herilooms, and pictures. Deciding that taking many photographs was evidently an inherited trait in this particular family, he looked at them tracing their line back for what he deemed to be seven or eight generations. After satisfying his curiosity of the familial history on display, he ventured into the kitchen to find Anna humming to herself as she prepared dinner. He surmised that Emma had gotten her voice from her mother as well.

"Pardon me, Anna," he said quietly.

She startled, and then laughed. "Sorry, I was in my own little universe. What can I do for ya?"

"Which room will I occupy? I would meditate before end-meal."

"Of course; you're up the stairs, left down the hall, last door on the left. The bathroom is the door just before yours. Please let me know if you are in need of anything, ok?" she said softly.

"Understood," he said quietly.

He followed her instructions to his room, finding his bag, towels, and an assortment of Terran and Vulcan tea available for him. He activated the electric teapot and selected _theris-masu_. In her room, Emma smiled as the scent of his favorite herbal tea wafted across the hall.

Dinner with the McLeod family was an experience. Will, Ken, and Sarek were settled comfortably in discussions of diplomacy and interstellar policies when Ken and Murron's youngest, Jenny, came bursting in the door.

She just stood there and stared at him for a moment. No one said anything about a random Vulcan being at dinner. More to the point, there had never been a specific Vulcan at dinner either.

"Jenny, ya born in a barn? Shut the door. You're lettin' the heat out," Ken chided sternly.

Looking quite embarrassed, she apologized profusely and closed the door, rejoining the family.

Anna arrived from the kitchen with a plate of food for her. "Jenny, you know dinner was an hour ago. We were getting concerned," Anna said.

Murron spoke up. "Ambassador Sarek, this is our youngest, Jenny." She turned and spoke directly to her daughter. "Jenn, you have some manners, correct?"

"Hello. My name is Jenny, and contrary to popular opinion at present, I do in fact have manners. Welcome to Skye," she answered.

"I thank you," he responded, fascinated by the family's interactions with the wayward teen.

Will spoke up next. "Jenny, answer your aunt, please."

"Well, I went to Portree to the mail distribution center. I was able to convince them to look for any news of my test results." She held up an envelope in her hand.

"It finally came, but I had to take the last shuttle back into Kyleakin. I got here as fast as I could," she finished.

"So," Emma began, "what's it say then?"

"I don't know." Jenny answered.

"Uhm, you didn't open it?" Emma asked, serving herself another half potato.

"I can't. Da…" Jenny handed the envelope to him.

Ken opened it and began reading, frowning and grumbling to himself. Jenny's arms were propped up on the table and her head was in her hands waiting. Sarek looked at Emma, confusion on his face.

"Jenny took examinations to exit her secondary education program. She's been waiting a long time for the results," Emma said.

"These are of importance?" he asked.

"Yes. They determine where you go, and what you study," she finished.

Ken cleared his throat and then paused, reading a page for the third time. Jenny groaned quietly.

"98th percentile in math and chemistry. Stellar cartography 99th, and perfect in physics. Well done, my daughter." Ken beamed at her.

The family applauded her efforts. She exhaled heavily and finally began to eat. Sarek's curiosity was piqued.

"May I inquire as to your interest in physics?" Sarek asked.

"Astrophysics is what I really enjoy, and I'd like to study that," she answered between bites. "It's worth the effort."

Sarek began to think about her situation, but was interrupted by the buzzing of the comm-unit. Will got up from the table to answer, returning a moment later.

"Ann, I love ya, but you're gonna be the death of that unit," he quipped, cleaning flour from his hands. "The Chief calls for a gathering. Sarek, it'll be an emotional experience combined with drinking, so if you wish to stay here, it's no insult, but ya might find it enlightening. The McLeods have inhabited this Island for more than 1,400 years undisturbed. We get our pride on."

"I am honored. Will this take place indoors?"

"Yes and no. We usually walk to the pub, and it gets chilly at night, so you may need warmer robes."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Gathering**

The walk to town had been refreshing. He observed her interactions with her family as they continued their conversation from dinner. She noticed, offering that particular smile to him once more.

Sarek noted the group of people kept increasing in size at each street corner and turn in the road, and by the time they arrived, nearly one hundred people were outside on the deck of the pub, looking over the strait. Many men wore traditional clothing, their hair was often long and that which was unbraided tossed gently in the breeze.

They were a strong, stocky group of people, hardened by many generations of existence where elemental exposure took life in minutes. They bundled warmly in their plaids, talking and laughing together.

As Will and Ken's families arrived, they quieted, parting to reveal an older, weathered man, his ensemble more heavily adorned, and people's interactions with him were reserved and respectful. He stood in front of Emma and smiled at her. She nodded respectfully to him and he gently patted her left cheek with his palm.

He looked at Sarek for a moment, and then approached him. Although his age was evident, his physical demeanor was no less commanding. Sarek was shorter than he by two inches, and weighed what he estimated to be at least 40 pounds less.

"You are Vulcan."

"I am Sarek," he answered courteously, saluting the man with the _ta'al_. "I come to serve."

The Chief outstretched a well-used hand for a handshake, curious if Sarek would do it. Without missing a step, Sarek accepted it, and released as quickly as was politely possible to do so.

"I am Leathan, 34th chief of clan McLeod. Welcome to Skye, Sarek. What is ours is yours; it is the 'Skyeland' way," he said, turning to enter the pub without another word.

After _several_ shots of whiskey, catching up and hearty laughter with old friends, Emma returned, slightly red-nosed, carrying two fresh-draught pints. Her accent had returned heavily under the influence of local spirits.

"Here you are. Since you're ambassador, you must recognize and endorse cultural exchange and mutual understanding, correct?" she asked, brogue rolling heavily.

It became very quiet as she handed him a pint.

He nodded and, albeit reluctantly, accepted the most opaque beverage he had ever seen. It looked like used engine lubricant from a poorly maintained flitter. He did not understand how anyone would want to drink something with that appearance.

"Ever had stout?" she asked, leaning toward him a bit, with a twinkle in her eye.

He thought he heard a miniscule slurring of words. People eyed him with smiles and unconcealed laughter as he sniffed the glass and his nose crinkled slightly at the viscous black-brown liquid with an odor reminiscent of burned toast.

"I cannot say that I have," he answered reluctantly.

She gently leaned over his left shoulder to whisper in his ear. He was very aware of her perfume, the creamy texture of her skin, the sultry nature of her voice in his ear and did not mind her being there.

"There is a first time for everything," she teased gently. Then she stood and yelled, "A toast: To Life!"

They cheered and drank heartily, placing mugs heavily on the tables when finished. He sampled it and while he found it not unpleasant, chose to err on the side of caution, and not consume the glass in one sitting as everyone around him had. She sat down with him and the rest of the family, and they talked of life on Skye: trade, commerce, history, and legends. Many came to meet him, welcoming him into their community.

Sarek found himself lost in memory of family gatherings with Amanda's kin, remembering cold weather, roaring fires, and bonding with the family in meals and conversation. He drew two conclusions: people of good character were the same throughout the universe; and Amanda would have been delighted by this evening's events. As he surveyed the social goins-on surrounding him, he made his decision.

He turned to speak with Emma and realized she was no longer seated next to him. When scanning the room did not reveal her whereabouts, he stood and excused himself from the table as they sang along with a poignant performance of _Glen Coe._ Donning his outer robes and stepping outside, he suspected she was the dark figure on the deck looking upon strait.

It was silent, save for waves softly lapping the beach and the sounds of life drifting from inside the pub. He stepped up to the railing next to her. As she looked up at the stars, she began to talk of her childhood.

"I used to lie on the porch at mum and dad's house at night when I was supposed to be asleep. I would take my telescope apart and sneak out the bedroom window. I actually fell off the window ledge one time," she paused, chuckling.

"When I was nine, I could identify every star in each constellation. I still remember when we learned about First Contact, our teacher taught us about Vulcan, and your grandfather, Solkar. She said encountering Vulcans was the most important thing to happen to humanity."

She pointed at Eridani, in Orion's belt. "I remember the first time I located Nevasa," she reminisced. "I wanted to see what was out there so badly," she trailed off, not finishing the thought.

He turned to look at her in the moonlight. "Emma, this visit has been most enlightening," he said.

"I know my parents have enjoyed spending time with you. I do believe my mother thinks you quite charming," she said, instantly regretting it. She reasoned she would likely lose her job for the evening's poor judgment, and tried to find a way to weasel away from him.

He intentionally stood closer to her, approaching her personal space. His scent heavier than ever before made her shiver slightly. He heard her heart beating faster, breath deepening, and knew she found his proximity pleasing.

Looking into her eyes, he decided on a calculated risk, and spoke, his baritone rumbling inside his chest. "Only your mother?" he asked, just above a whisper, eyes never leaving hers.

He willed her to read his feelings at that moment, and lowered his shielding. She was delighted that he relaxed enough to allow perception his feelings about her: admiration, respect, attraction, desire, and insatiable curiosity. She'd dared hope for any awareness, but had no idea the intensity of his feelings.

"Not just my mother," she answered him softly. "I," She trailed off.

"You?" he asked with intense curiosity, taking another step closer, only inches from her, committed the experience to memory.

"May I share my thoughts with you?" she asked.

Her hand hovering above his, he granted permission for contact. Emma gently picked up his left hand, turning his palm upward and deftly unfastening his sleeve, sliding her hand just inside to lay her downturned right palm on his wrist and forearm.

An unfamiliar tingling sensation pulsated against his radial nerve, moving from his wrist up to his shoulder, a flash of light and sound in his mind. As she joined his mind, his hand grasped her wrist reflexively, and then she was there. It was unlike any meld he had ever experienced.

/May I be candid?/

/Always./

/Sarek, I am strongly drawn to you: your intellect, character, and personality - everything about you. If I thought for a moment you would feel the same way,/ she hesitated.

/Continue, please./

/I am prepared to vacate my position at the embassy upon our return. I've not behaved well this evening, and I don't expect to maintain my post after this./

/That would only be necessary if I were to find your behavior unacceptable./

/Do you?/

/No. You have granted brevity, and I shall reciprocate. I experience this attraction to you as well./ A flood of warmth permeated her mind, accompanied by his deep satisfaction. His mind touched hers gently for a moment. /Emma, I think it wise to continue this interaction when we have privacy./

She backed gently out of his mind in a mirror image of how she arrived. He searched for any residual sensation of her mind in his, but there was none.

"How long have we been out here?" she asked.

"Fourteen point four minutes," he answered, his eyes set on hers. He was filled with most acceptable sensation as his _katra_ roused from self-imposed dormancy.

"We should return to the gathering. People will start looking if they haven't already," she suggested, shivering in the chill coming across the water.

Closing the final, miniscule gap between them he wrapped the fabric of his outer robes around them both in embrace. He looked into her eyes and gently stroked her cheek with his hand.

Both Ken and Murron searched for her, as it was time to celebrate Will and Anna's 40th anniversary. Murron stood just outside the door to the pub observing the two at the edge of the deck when Ken snuggled up and hugged her from behind, placing his chin on her right shoulder.

"Do you see what I am seeing, Love?" she asked him. "Cause if not, I need to stop drinking."

"Aye, Murron, I see it. Has she said anything?"

"All but denied it today, but it's plain as the nose on your face. You think Will and Anna know, and they're just not talking 'bout it?" she asked.

"No. Will would've have said something about _this_."

Ken wondered about the details. Emma's penchant for privacy meant he might never find out. He decided to open the door and shut it loudly. They began to walk toward the building, as Emma defiantly avoided eye contact.

"Mmm-hmm," Murron purred just loudly enough for Emma to hear her when she walked by.

Returning to their table, the atmosphere transformed, lights dimming, laughter and conversation settling into murmur, as couples sat and hopeful couples wooed each other. Ken approached Emma, whispering something into her ear.

She gently leaned softly into Sarek's chest, whispering to him. "I'll return momentarily; you'll witness ancient tradition tonight - watch carefully - it's a rare thing to see." Looking into his eyes, she gave him that particular smile and joined the other musicians.

He watched and listened as she played a haunting Irish slide called ' _The Gael'_ on a borrowed violin. A hand drum being softly tapped by Jenny, was accompanied by a motionless, profound reverence.

Will stood taking a deep breath, and walked to the center of the room, the silver in his hair and beard shining in the dim light. Anna approached him, their eyes locked on one another, speaking softly together. He placed his right hand firmly against his own chest and then over her heart. She took his face in her hands, speaking something to him and he nodded.

All around him, couples watched and embraced one another. He offered his seat to a very pregnant young woman that stood next to him. Smiling graciously, she declined, her husband approaching her from behind, nodding acknowledgement to Sarek for his consideration. Sarek distinctly heard him whisper to her: 'Mhairie, I am grateful for you'.

Anna gently wiped Will's cheeks dry and kissed them each in turn. Will raised his hands to her face and drew her to him. Sarek had seen many different customs in his career, but the ensuing exchange was the most intimate he had ever witnessed.

Will looked deeply into her eyes and they began to dance very slowly together, his arm around her waist, her hand in his. As the music continued, they drew closer to each other. His hand lay against the fall of her hips, the other just under her arm. She brought her body into his; he shifted his right leg between hers; her arms climbing the height of his back, and clinging to his broad shoulders. His right hand held her tightly to his body as his left hand at her hips brought her into complete contact with him; his head nestled against her neck.

The Chief sat in the chair Will vacated. He quietly spoke to Sarek. "Today is their 40th anniversary."

Sarek was unaware his arrival coincided with a time of profound importance in their intimate relationship. "I understand the wedding anniversary is a very important date for humans. May I inquire as to the symbolic gestures they exchanged?" he asked respectfully.

"There are three: ' _my heart is yours, my mind is yours, my life is yours – each to the end of all things_ '." He paused again, looking Sarek directly in the eyes. "William has always been very sensitive. Emma takes after him in that way. It's not a bad characteristic to have in a marriage," he said quietly.

Sarek watched her as she played, her eyes set on her parents, and then to him, softening. His gaze relaxed slightly, never leaving hers as he nodded respectfully to her.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Bonding**

Sarek sat on the front porch deep in thought, imagining her as a rebellious, stargazing nine-year-old. She found him sitting in the dark and joined him in silence. He reached gently for her hand, holding it in his, a long period passing as he considered what both Emma and the Chief had said to him during fascinating evening, the seductive melody she played cycling through his mind…

… _I am strongly drawn to you_ … William has always been very sensitive… _you will witness ancient tradition_ … Emma takes after him… _watch_ _carefully_ … not a bad characteristic in a marriage… _this is a rare thing…_ my heart… _my mind_ … my life… _each to the end of all things_ … it is the 'Skyeland' way… _Sarek_ …

"Sarek?" she asked again.

In the near darkness, he saw vulnerability she revealed to no one else, delicate, quasi-fragile, and sensitive.

"If you're still amenable, I'd continue our conversation."

They entered the house to find the downstairs quiet. In the dark, she felt Sarek reach for her hand, leading her up the stairs to his room.

Quietly he doffed his robes and stood before her in a soft blue tunic and grey trousers, and gently initiated a meld, telepathic energy pulsing through his fingertips as he sought the proper placement.

He was surrounded by her thought patterns and feelings, most human in nature, brought under control with many years of practice. It was as if a sub-routine ran in the background, constantly organizing thoughts, maintaining structure. He listened to the soft musical tones in her mind, a state of constant musical composition forming around him

He brushed her consciousness with his for a moment, seeing images in her long-term memory…

… _Before the image assembled, he heard a child's laughter, wind, and the sounds of running – fast running. The scene burst into his mind's eye brilliantly. She was seven years old. She was at the edge of sharply eroded cliffs, running with other children…playing, laughing… climbing trees in hide and seek…_

 _Nights with her telescope… the first sighting of Eridani and the excitement that came with that…wondering what Vulcan was like… what Vulcans were like… hoping to meet one someday… curious about what plants and animals were there… and then falling twenty-five feet from the window ledge… hiding her injury for fear of punishment for disobeying her father's instructions…_

 _Flowers that would appear on her front steps… the boy with the bright, blue eyes and coal black hair…the tender kisses in the fields of heather and green…the love in her heart…_

She shut off the images as anxiety began to rise, grief welling up from wounds thought long-healed.

/I do not understand what you are suffering./

He was not prepared for the intensity of what these experiences had in store.

 _Her wedding day, becoming hand-bound to a fellow 'Skyelander', who had been delivered the same day by the same midwife as she. They had grown up together, and it was clear they were drawn to each other from the beginning._

/His name was Bruce./

 _He was a tall, husky man with thick, black hair and ocean-blue eyes. Like her, he had a sharp wit and an equally tender smile. She would often find flowers on her front porch… comfort after she fought her classmates… traveling to Betazed and supporting her therapy and psi training… he sent her a letter every week while she worked at the Mars Colony… planning surprise visits …_

 _Her uncle Ken had cashed in numerous favors from his years in the diplomatic corps managing clearance for him at the space dock when she returned from Mars. He had asked her to marry him before she disembarked the airlock, and 45 minutes after she had arrived on Skye, their wedding had begun._

 _He watched as they were married and experienced their first union: its extraordinarily familiar and foreign sensations. They quickly forgave each other when the situation became too funny to resolve after getting so carried away they had fallen off the bed._

/Some things can't be taken too seriously./

/Evidently not./

 _Sarek then became aware of her physical submission to Bruce; allowing him to lay with her again._ " _My Em, it's always been you," Bruce whispered._

 _He shared their joy upon learning very soon after she was carrying their first child. All the worry, preparation, nurturing feelings she had for the baby growing inside her womb were reminiscent of Amanda's emotions in that time of her life._

 _He watched Emma laugh when Bruce would place his glass on her belly while they were lying in the grass together._ _The last of these images was her looking in the mirror at her pregnant body after a morning shower, gently caressing her belly as the baby kicked. He was struck by the loveliness of her appearance in that state._

 _He remembered the many hours spent lying next to Amanda, his hand on her bare stomach, enjoying the glow that accompanied her as she carried Spock within her, treasuring the gift she would soon offer to the House of Surak. While he always held a great appreciation for her beauty, it was never as wondrous as when she carried his child._

/So beautiful./

/I didn't feel that way at the time./

 _Bruce contracted Rigellian Influenza from a coworker, and she got it from him. It ravaged her body; causing the sudden, early labor. He felt its extraordinary pain, and he witnessed the premature delivery of their stillborn son. Sarek could not imagine an_ uzh-keshtu _so small in his hands._ _Bruce never forgave himself the death of their son._

Sarek's mind went to the moments immediately following their notification of Spock's death. He and Amanda grieved the loss of their only child, their son. She was inconsolable, and while his grief was marked out and placed in order within his mind, hers was spilling out as she poured over Spock's possessions returned from Starfleet.

He remembered seeing her hold Spock's meditation robe tightly, her grief beginning anew as she inhaled her son's scent knowing she would never see him again. This had deeply disturbed him, shaking the foundations of his logic. All he could do was hold her close to his body and heart, surrounding her spirit with his.

/Parents shouldn't have to bury their children. It's unnatural./

/No, they should not./

 _As they buried the boy, he felt the agony that she had endured. Over the next eight months, they began to recover from the tragedy. Sarek felt relief that the memory was over. He did not know another was coming._

 _Bruce never completely recovered from the loss of their son, falling into depression he could not recover from. Sarek saw through her eyes discovering his body, only moments too late to save him from himself._

 _/Was there no hope?/_

 _/None of us saw it coming. One moment he seemed fine, the next he was dead. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy./_

 _After burying him, she experienced moments of profound grief, resolving them each in turn with the solace and strength that her faith gave her. She thought of grief as a terrible storm; waves of anguish renewed pouring in on her as tremendous tides crash against the beach – but even hurricanes had to lessen. She had become profoundly stronger for it. She had a better sense of self._

 _/Your courage is remarkable./_

 _/This isn't just about me, though. I sense your grief./_

He did something he had not since the bond with Amanda ended at her death: he released all of the emotion he had kept inside. Nauseating waves of terror, physical pain, despair - it was stunning, but all too familiar to her. She could not have conceived of his retaining these feelings for as long as he had.

/I am so, so sorry - _tushah nash-veh_./

Emma watched memories ebb, and then flow openly to her.

… _T'Rea abandoning him at his barest possible point of survival during his first_ Pon Farr _\- his anger, and sadness, and rejection…_

 _Then, years later, he discovered the unpredictable and lovely young Amanda. How much more beautiful she was in his mind than she already had been in life! Emma watched their relationship develop, their bonding, witnessed the love that they made, his learning to show love for her even when he could not say it openly._

 _Amanda unconditionally received him with mercy and compassion as his blood burned and they endured The Madness together, her patient resolve to bring him successfully through the most demanding experience they would ever share._

Emma had no idea that he had been suffering through these things, and was overwhelmed by need to comfort him. No longer fearing rejection, moved with compassion for the emotional creature that shared her mind.

/A pearl far beyond price,/ she thought.

She sensed him considering that.

/Emma, I would bond with Thee./

/And I with you./

In a moment of guidance from him, they spoke softly in unison.

"Parted from me, but never parted. Never and always touching, and touched."

The foundation of the meld began to change, surrounding her with a warmth and comfort she had never known, feelings she never before thought him to possess. He embraced her soul within his carefully, a delicate treasure.

Places she had thought long closed and stored away opened as his katra explored hers, seeking, listening, learning, and sharing in return. Memories ebbed and flowed between them, preferences, hopes, thoughts.

Emma felt a sense of belonging she had never experienced before, a part of something so very special.

/Emma - my _Aduna_. I am most satisfied in you./

Opening her eyes she smiled, reaching up to place her hand against his face, resting her forehead against his. He held her gently as she traced wiry eyebrows. He closed his eyes, enjoying the curious exploration, stroking his angular cheekbones, and lovingly touching the points of his ears as they flushed under her fingers.

"I've wanted to do that for some time now," she confessed, barely above a whisper.

"You may do so at any time," he whispered.

She relished in his scent. It was strong now, and she inhaled it deeply. He sensed her desire for it and held her closer in his arms. He looked into her eyes and kissed her softly, his lips exploring hers, relishing in the beauty of newfound, gentle intimacy.

They lay in embrace on his bed talking quietly for more than an hour, when they realized they were in the wrong room at the wrong time. Will and Anna's reverie had apparently continued after the pub.

"Let's go across the hall, please," she urged.

He was certain his hosts would have been terrifically embarrassed to know their assumed privacy was non-existent, and followed into her room.

They embraced in the darkness, slowly unfastening the annoying things that tend to get in the way. Carefully, she pulled his tunic over his head, just so it kept his eyes covered. She leaned in, kissing his exposed lips once, and then moved away from them as he searched in the darkness for her. He removed his tunic and looked at her, taking in her beauty.

Pulling the duvet back, he crawled in, beckoning her to him. After she settled in, he looked into her eyes as his hand gently traced random contours on her hip. She shifted onto her back allowing him to nestle a leg between her knees. He kissed her as his hands traversed her body for the first time.

Playing with his chest hair, she felt confident of herself until his hand found the joining of her thighs. Pausing there, he grazed her skin lightly with his fingertips. She sighed quietly. He quickened the pace and intensity of his effort as the fire to begin radiating outward through her body and a smoldering desire awakened within him. She shuddered, her breathing sporadic and deep. He lightened his touch as she came back to him, watching her intently.

Kissing her chin, he nestled himself up against her, slowly moving his hips closer to her and settled himself down as her legs relaxed over his thighs. Moving within her, she moaned softly, their shared pleasure radiating across the newly created esper connection. When she whispered his name affirmingly, he growled deeply, sensations quickening and instinct overtaking him. Searing flame spread as they indulged in each other's resolution. He lay down behind her, molding his body to hers, falling into heavy, sated sleep.

 _His eyesight came slowly into focus as he found himself in the family room of his home in Shi-Kahr. Hearing the sound of her laughter in the garden, he walked out the patio to see her kneeling next to a tiny, delicate girl, whose black-brown eyes investigated everything._ _She exclaimed delightedly when handed a small, yellow flower. The tiny girl then looked directly at him, giving a very familiar smile._

 _Exclaiming "_ a'nirih _!" the little girl ran to him, her arms up-stretched in the universal request to be picked up. He raised her to his arms and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and the yellow flower. He thanked her and closed his eyes feeling himself most blessed._


	10. Chapter 10

**That Could Have Been Better**

Opening his eyes again, Sarek squinted as sunlight filtered in through sheer curtains. Emma sighed softly, mumbling something unintelligible, and snuggled up to his back. He gently rolled over taking her into his arms, cradling her head on his shoulder, encountering a marvelous display of bed-head, sticking out everywhere it should not have.

As he could hear talking downstairs, Will's voice booming with laughter, Sarek thought it time to rise. Emma shifted in his arms, and stretched very slowly. She opened one eye, then the other, and yawned.

" _Ha'tha ti'lu, Aduna_ ," he whispered, softly.

"Good morning," she smiled at him.

"I believe the family is already downstairs preparing first-meal. I smell coffee," he tempted her, as he rose to dress. She perked up a bit, eyeing his naked body with delight. "I shall return momentarily," he said, pulling on his pajama bottoms, sitting low on his lean hips.

"I quite enjoyed last night," she said, feeling somewhat tingly in places she did not wish to awaken.

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes. "That sentiment is mutual, _k'diwa t'nash-veh_ ," he said, touching two fingers to hers.

He rose, opening the door to find Will was standing there with one hand raised to knock a cup of coffee for Emma in the other. His jaw dropped open as he looked Sarek over, very nearly naked with bed-head of his own.

Emma burrowed deeply under the duvet attempting to will the situation into going away. /Oh. My. God./

Nonplussed by neither her mental communication nor his own embarrassment, Sarek greeted him. "Good morning."

Will stood there for another moment, and then his manners returned. "Sarek. Well, good morning. I brought Emma some coffee, a tradition she and I have," he stammered. "I'd have brought you some as well, if I'd known, that is."

"Most kind, but I prefer tea," he said, gently taking the coffee from him and placing it on her night table. "Emma - coffee."

He then returned to the door. "Will, I would speak with you momentarily," he requested, stepping past her father toward the bathroom.

"You're still standing there, aren't you?" she asked, voice muffled by bed linens.

"Umm…"

"That would be a yes. Are you upset?" the muffled voice asked.

"I'm surprised, yes, but not upset. Tell you what Emma, why don't you go use the master bathroom, so we can all sit _together_ for breakfast, and the most interesting conversation in this house for many, long years," he suggested.

She shot a thumbs-up from under the duvet.

Will quietly shut the door and walked down the stairs. He passed through the kitchen and out the back door, stopping only to respond to his wife.

"Will, is Emma up yet? I don't know what Sarek prefers for breakfast, do you, Will?"

"He's up there, all right. _They_ _'ll_ be down in a few minutes," he responded curtly, slamming the door behind him.

Anna crinkled her nose wondering what Will's problem was.

Emma stood in her parent's shower. /Well, that was fun,/ she thought.

/It certainly was not./

Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of wood being chopped with an aggressively swung axe. She and Sarek walked downstairs together and were sharing a private moment, when Anna came into the living room looking confused, speaking before she saw them.

"Emma, I don't know what has gotten into your father but - " she stopped midsentence. "Ah. It makes perfect sense. I'll call him for breakfast. Good morning, Sarek."

She walked away trying to hide the smile on her face: Murron was right about them.

Breakfast was eaten in quiet, the only sounds were utensils on plates, cups being into saucers. Emma was grateful for the customary silence during a meal.

/That is not the reason we observe silence during a meal, _Aduna_./

/It is today, _Adun_./ He looked at her sharply and then back at his plate, serving himself another slice of tomato.

After finishing one last piece of toast, Will scooted his chair back just enough to cross his right leg over the left, and then set his eyes on Emma. He imagined them phaser beams, boring holes through her forehead.

When all reasonable attempts to vaporize his daughter failed, he shifted in his chair. He really wasn't angry, he just would have preferred to not find out _that_ way. He also did not like the thought that a man seventy years older than he had a better waistline. "Sarek, you requested to speak earlier."

Sarek looked at him, then Anna. "Emma and I have taken one another as husband and wife," he answered, matter-of-factly.

Pretending to speak to Sarek, Anna directed her comment to her husband. "I see. When did this happen? I don't mean to invade your privacy; and you're under no obligation to explain yourselves to us," she paused. "Are they, Will?"

She loved her husband, but he could be insensitive at times. Will looked at his plate quietly, avoiding her glare.

"I ask forgiveness for causing disruption," Sarek said.

Will sat forward and put his forehead in his hands, rubbed his ears a moment and then spoke.

"There is nothing to forgive. I'll not begrudge my daughter joy in her life, especially after all that's befallen her. All we desire is Emma to find satisfaction with her life, as it is and with whom she'll share it. If that comes with you Sarek, I gladly welcome you to our family."


	11. Chapter 11

**Alone Time Is A Good Thing**

Thursday, Anna and Will traveled to Inverness completing final preparations for the Tattoo. Sarek and Emma chose to capitalize on this time alone. After sharing end-meal, they enjoyed a walk that, while satisfying, left him quite chilled. Emma drew a hot bath for him and then set about housekeeping needing doing.

Once again comfortable, he went in search of his new wife. She was in the living room with the small basket containing black-brown bricks. His natural curiosity activated, he knelt next to her, handing them to her as she stacked them.

"What are these?"

"Peat is ancient plant and vegetable matter that has broken down and decayed. Each brick burns for hours. It's plentiful here."

She smiled, enjoying him in flannel pajamas. She brought their bed linens down and created a comfortable pallet for them to sleep on.

Settling down next to her he spoke. "Should we be concerned about visitors?" He asked.

" _Rai_ , _Adun,"_ she responded, pouring tea for them both.

"No?" he asked. He was growing accustomed to how she transitioned between Vulcan and Federation Standard without warning.

"No. My aunt and uncle are under the impression we went with Mum and Dad. Without saying too much, I convinced Mum they need not return before noon," she stated, offering a plate with fresh fruit and _kreyla_.

"Logical," he replied, selecting a crispy piece of bread.

"I simply wish to spend an uninterrupted evening with you," she answered, smiling and wiping her chin after biting into a particularly juicy piece of globe fruit. "Oops."

"I would discuss a matter of importance, considering last night," he began.

"Sure."

"Living arrangements," he paused, sipping tea. "We will reside together. I find it unacceptable to live apart. I have instructed Soran to transfer your belongings to my apartment."

"How conventional," she laughed gently. "I have one for you: children. I have read research on inter-species conception."

He looked at her. "You are curious about our experiences trying," he deduced.

"Well, I am certain I understand the _mechanics_ of how it happened," she chuckled to herself. "What I am curious about specifically is what kind of intervention was required?"

"Conception occurred quite naturally, of that I am certain. However, very careful monitoring of Spock's fetal development was required for their survival," he answered.

"Their?"

"It taxed Amanda's body greatly," he answered honestly. "The medical team that oversaw Spock's fetal development and birth reside in practice on Nisus. I will contact them for assistance, if you wish it," he searched her facial expression carefully, but she was silent, listening to him. "I already have two sons, and will understand if you prefer not to."

"I wish it," she replied, eyes smiling softly.

He reached his arm, bringing her into his embrace. She leaned against his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat, smiling. "My heart rate pleases you?" he asked.

"Everything about you pleases me," she said with that particular smile, "especially your warmth." She burrowed closer to him and thought silently how grateful she was to not be disturbed by her parent's 'sex-ploits' again.

/I share in that sentiment. Their privacy should remain intact./

Gently setting her cup on the hearth with his, they lay down, his hands trailing slowly over her skin. He smiled slightly as she shivered under his touch, his tongue followed his fingers, nibbling as he explored in the firelight. She began to shift her body a bit, wincing sharply as her lower back complained about her body positioning.

"I will attend," he offered.

When she turned, he knelt beside her, he began with her shoulders applying just enough pressure to stimulate the circulation in her muscles and elicit several groans of distinct satisfaction.

"Would you prefer more pressure?" he asked.

"Deeper would be marvelous," she responded, hoping he caught the double entendre.

Working dutifully to relieve tension along her spine, he chose to ignore the risqué remark. Shifting into _seiza_ , he applied greater kneading pressure on her sacral and lumbar spine and was rewarded by the muscle tension relaxing. He had not intended the massage be sexual in nature, but realized it had that effect on her. He stroked his fingers along the soft skin of her back.

"How long must I wait?" she asked, her voice softened by his touch.

He looked down at her body glistening, her breathing deep, and pulse accelerating. She sat up on her knees and turned to him.

/You're not the only one who can read thoughts…such delightful arrogance./

Leaning against him, she grazed his body with hers. He had not expected she would perceive his thoughts with such clarity. He suddenly realized the vulnerability Amanda must have experienced in the early stages of their marriage as she worked to regain her privacy.

/An erroneous presumption./ He smiled softly at her in response.

Emma awoke to a chill and stoked the fire, adding another brick of peat. She glanced up at the family clock to see it was approaching three o'clock. Turning her eyes back to his sleep, she watched him. He sighed softly as she returned to him.

She reached her hand out to softly trace his angular body contours, and naturally worked their way down his stomach, playing in the soft fuzz that ventured southward from his navel. She wanted to continue, but paused, not wishing to wake him.

" _T'hy'la_ , please continue," his words heavy with sleep.

"I should have let you rest."

"Sleep will come later. I would teach you something quite satisfying," he said.

She nodded, curiosity getting the better of her.

He brought their hands together, a strange pulsation of energy channeling through their fingertips. Pairing only their index and second fingers together, he gently traced down the back of her them with his and across her hand, subsequently igniting every nerve ending in her body.

She inhaled deeply as his hand returned to its starting place, her pulse rate accelerating. She trailed her fingertips over the back of his fingers, lingering for a moment against them, moving slowly in the trough between them. His eyes closed as his breath deepened.

"That is most pleasing," he whispered to her.

Fascinated, she continued gently drawing her fingers over the back of his hand, tracing the blood vessels one at a time, feeling his pulse race under her fingers. She watched the subtle movement of his eyebrows as she explored this new technique. Continuing, she delicately traced his ear from lobe to point and was rewarded with a distinctly provocative exhalation.

Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed the tip of his nose, cheeks, and chin as he allowed his thought to flow freely: of them and the sense of renewal he felt found in this unexpected bonding.

Straddling him, she settled down as his hands found her hips and moved up her back. Projecting the sheer pleasure her attention brought him, his thoughts permeated her mind as early morning sun burns through slow, thick fog. His presence sure and steady, he enveloped her in the affection and desire he felt for her.

/Know that I feel this for Thee, _Aduna t'nash-veh_ , even if it is not said aloud./

One gentle motion found her beneath him, his efforts increasing. She projected her emotions to him: fealty, submission, protectiveness – and desire, she moved in concert a confident and satisfying rhythm between them.

 _His nictitating membranes instinctively shut as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of Nevasa, standing quietly with other families waiting for their children to from the desert._

 _Sarek thought of their intense disagreement._

 _"I realize it's a rite of passage, but I don't want him harmed," she said, tears in her eyes._

 _"My wife he will likely return. Like you, he is strong, tenacious, and resourceful."_

 _He recognized how she stared at him and decided to stop talking. They did not disagree often, but when she set on her argument, he would have to wait until she was willing to 'renegotiate terms'. She had understandable trepidation about the_ kahs'wan _._

 _"_ Likely _?" she said loudly, almost mocking him and turned, walking out of the room._

 _She had already lost one son, and was not about to lose another, but she could not do anything about it. Carrying and delivering this boy had been so difficult._ _Sarek followed her to their shared office, finding she had shut the door, and knocked quietly._

 _"I do not wish to speak."_

 _"I do not intend to speak - may I enter?"_

 _There was no verbal response as she opened the door. He stepped toward her and reached his hand out to her, beckoning her to him. He simply held her. She was not normally given to responses like this._

 _"_ Aduna - _" he was quickly cut off._

 _"I though you weren't here to talk, Sarek. I am feeling irrational, illogical and I am wallowing in it. Take it or leave it," she protested, quietly._

 _Their son chose the shorter, more dangerous route and was expected midday. As they stood she was very careful to shield her thoughts, lest she commit a garish social faux pas._

 _The Adjudicator announced the first were seen in the far distance. As the children began to come into view, they waiting families all saw him. Emma recognized her boy simply from his hair._

 _He had indeed returned to them, and while the other children were walking in, he was leading them at a dead run, unimpeded by the desert heat. Sarek inwardly smiled to himself: his son was born running._

 _The families looked at Sarek and Emma in what could only be described as disbelief, and then back at him. He stopped to catch his breath a moment, barely concealing his delight, and greeted his family for the first time a man._

" _O'Mekhlar. Mene Sakkhet ur-seveh…"_

Sarek's eyes snapped open, quickly surveyed their nest in the living room. The sun was just breaking the horizon. He sat upright and listened, hearing the creaking of floorboards above him.

Moments later she came out of the bedroom smelling coffee. Unable to deny herself, she headed downstairs.

"First-meal is ready," he offered, a cup of coffee in his left hand.


	12. Chapter 12

**What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate**

The morning quickly moved into afternoon as preparations were complete for the rehearsal. Emma realized her father's industrious packing ethic had not lost voracity when he shooed her away from the trunk of the family flitter.

Sarek stood, watching them haggle over how things ought to be packed for the journey to Dunvegan, and the interaction didn't appear to be going well.

"Da, I have to bring these things, seriously."

"Well, you have too much here. Your mother already gave your regalia to Matthew. Why are you bringing all this? You need to learn to think of others," he said, rather abruptly.

Sarek found this to be an odd statement. He had never witnessed Emma inconsiderate of others.

"Wow, _Will_ , polite and thoughtful," she retorted to her father, wondering what his problem was.

"You've not answered me, _daughter_."

"I'm waitin' for a reasonable question."

When she stood back a step with arms crossed, Sarek saw the impasse approaching. Will stopped and turned to look at her directly. "Ok, here is my question: Emma, darling, why do you feel the need to bring everything in the house to the castle grounds today?"

Sarek saw her body language and realized they were not going to solve the problem this way. Logic dictated a question might be helpful.

/Emma, are each of these things necessary for your rehearsals?/

She flashed very angry eyes at him, and he then thought perhaps he should not have asked. Only one other ever inspired _that_ silence.

/Don't take sides, Sarek. I don't care for the way he is communicating with me. I don't know what Ma took to Mr. Buchanan already, and I'll _not_ be the one whose uniform is incomplete./

/We must leave in sixteen minutes if we are to arrive on time./

Her aggravation began to focus on him. /Ok, then what do you suggest? I am hoping you have something more _logical_ in mind than me./

/That being?/

/Currently, I am considering pushing him down and then running away./

Sarek just stared at her, his right eyebrow rising. He turned, hearing Anna coming outside looking rather unsatisfied with the vehicle still not being packed. He met her on the porch.

"Anna, I would speak with you," directing her to the side.

"Are they having a stand-off?" she asked, sounding mildly irritated.

"Yes, and I have ascertained why. Emma is unsure of which items are with the tailor, and does not wish an incomplete uniform. Will does not understand her concerns, and they are both refusing reasonable conference."

She shook her head in frustrated disbelief. "This is normal; a family traveling tradition. Sarek, are you certain you knew what you were doing when you chose her?" Anna asked teasingly.

"Most certain."

Anna smiled at him sweetly, showing him a note in her hand. "So, I have a list of the items in question. Perhaps we should give it to them?"

Walking to the flitter, they found the impassioned disagreement in full swing. Anna pulled the list from her back pocket, trying to get their attention. Sarek began to grow concerned, as Emma's frustration was escalating quickly.

"Will," Anna said, failing to get his attention.

"Da! I am not - "she said, abruptly interrupted by her father.

"Yes, you are, _girl,_ " he snapped at her.

Her anger surged strongly. " _Don't_ call me that. Ever."

"Emma" Anna tried her daughter, failing again.

"Then don't bloody act like one!" Will snapped.

"Will? Stop that at once," Anna interjected

Concerned by a simple misunderstanding spiraling out of control, Sarek stepped to Emma's side.

"You'll not treat me like a child. I have earned my place."

"Laureate or no, you are _still_ my daughter, and I'll call ya what I will," he barked, pointing an aggressive finger in her direction, taking a step toward her.

Seeing genuine anger overcome Will's normally calm demeanor, Sarek stepped in front of her left side, placing his hand on her arm protectively, his sole focus shifted to the threat to his wife.

"Da. Listen, please! You are not being reasonable - "

"You'll not overstep your bounds in my home and correct me _\- do not tell me to be quiet, child! You wanted a row with me, and you'll have it now!_ " he boomed, walking briskly to where she stood.

Sarek moved in front of his _aduna_ protectively, and put a hand out to stop him, issuing what would be his only warning. "Step away from my wife."

Emma backed up from her father, her eyes welling with tears. She turned and walked away, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Anna intervened, placing her hand on Will's chest and speaking barely above a whisper. "William Nathaniel, that is quite enough. You've not only humiliated your daughter, but your wife."

She gave him a piercing gaze he tried unsuccessfully to avoid. "Darling, she is not being reasonable," he finally said.

"Will, she has been trying to talk with you rationally. You provoked her intentionally," she observed.

Sarek found her leaning against an ancient oak tree. He approached her, choosing silence.

"He's not spoken to me like that in many years. It was," she paused to take a deep, cleansing breath, "surreal."

Choosing to move beyond what had just occurred he addressed her with his solution to the immediate problem of their overdue departure, touching two fingers to hers. "Your mother possesses a precise list of items given the tailor. I would surmise there are details of which we know not. I would not assume that your father's behavior is normal, is it?" he asked.

"No. He's very even-tempered, and I don't know what to make of this. He's been out of sorts since they returned from Inverness."

"I suggest we take the shuttle to Dunvegan in order to arrive on time. I will ask you to repack based upon the list while I retrieve the shuttle. I shall return momentarily."

Sarek returned to the front of the house and found Will and Anna sitting on the front porch. As he looked at Will, he wondered what could have set his emotional state thus. "My calculations determine our arrival to be 26 minutes past deadline if we take the flitter. I will pilot the shuttle to the castle grounds. Will, please take me to the landing pad."

"Yes, of course."

They departed in silence, and Anna went to find her daughter, following the sounds of a stuffy nose. Emma was already repacking her materials to prepare for their now rescheduled departure. "How can I help, sweetheart?"

"I have it nearly finished. Thanks for the list; I did not know you made one," Emma answered quietly.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. That's not happened since just before Betazed. I don't know what I did to provoke him," Emma replied.

She hesitated a moment, sensing her mother's unspoken tension, seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, and sensing grief in her heart.

"What is wrong with Da?" she asked.

She was hesitant to answer her daughter, and chose her words very carefully. "He just has a lot on his mind right now, love. He will talk about it when he is ready."


	13. Chapter 13

**Tailor-Made**

Approaching the castle, Sarek recalled information he found in his research. Dunvegan had been in the possession of the McLeod clan for nearly 1,000 years, and had never been overrun by an aggressor. Accompanied by lovely gardens and a stunning landscape, he could understand its appeal to visitors. At the base of mountains known as McLeod's Tabletops, it was both an imposing and aesthetically appealing place.

They were ushered behind a cordon that separated the visitors from the guard and Matthew Buchanan, the clan's uniform tailor, appeared as if from thin air. "Hello Will, Anna! Safe journey I trust?"

"Yes, it was. How is Gwyn?" Will asked.

"Very well, thank you. She sends her regards, and will see you in Edinburgh. Emma, let's take care of these measurements, love."

Emma nodded and followed him to an area out of public view where several men and women were being measured for adjustments as well. Several of them acknowledged her, curiously watching Sarek. As she stood upon a block, Matthew took her measurements carefully, notating and comparing, commenting as he worked.

"Emma, you have lost two inches from your shoulders, you have dropped one inch from your bust and we don't have the time to alter your ghillie, my dear – oh, its white – can't use it anyway. Your vest is too large now, I have a smaller size for you, the kilt hose are cream colored, I have them - never fear, and shoes are black, good."

He measured from her navel to her knees. "Geoff will pleat your kilt to the stripe, and we're marching the ancient dress tartan – what color are your flashes?" he asked.

"Cobalt," she answered quickly.

"Good. What are we missing? Ah, do you not have a bonnet?"

"No, sir."

Matthew shot off instructions at his assistant, Geoff, who returned moments later returned with a black shirt, a vest, kilt hose, and a Glengarry bonnet, in blue. He immediately began sewing the clan badge to it.

"I have something for ya, by the way." He began to dig through a bag sitting next to Geoff. "This, my darling, is for you." He beamed, placing a sheathed dagger in her hand.

The _sgian dubh_ was an essential part of the uniform and equipment. A fourteen-inch dagger blade was set in a short stock, with a huge emerald mounted on the hilt. The gem had a smooth surface and was set over the clan badge, with the motto 'Hold Fast' clearly visible. She knew this particular dagger had been in the Buchanan family for more than 500 years.

"Matthew, I cannot accept this – this belongs to your son." She tried to hand it back, but he would not accept it.

"David's uninterested in older traditions," he leaned in closer and whispered, "besides, we wanted to give it to you as a wedding gift." His eyes twinkled.

She secretly wondered how information flew around the way it did, and decided it either faeries _or_ her aunt Murron.

She held it in her hands, for a moment, and then secured it against her leg. This particular weapon was not a reproduction. It had been used in battle by the McLeods in the 17th century, and spoke silent volumes about the clan's part in centuries-long struggles for independence.

Sarek and Anna stood on the side of the practice field near the castle, watching the drill rehearsals begin. Will, Emma, and Ken were lined out and ready with the guard when the familiar whir of a transporter beam initiated behind them. They turned to see a young man who strongly resembled Ken appear with pipes in hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Hello Anna!" He hugged her tightly.

"Daniel! We were wondering if you were gonna make it or not. It is wonderful to see you!"

"We were delayed returning to space dock. I will catch up with ya later - I am late." He hugged her, kissing her cheek. " _Osu_ ," he nodded respectfully, and then turned to run out to the one open space in the pipe's line

"Daniel serves in Starfleet as a medical officer, specializing in Vulcan medicine. Needless to say, we don't see him very often."

She paused, and then turned to look at Sarek directly. "We can speak of Daniel another time, Sarek. I wish to speak with you on another matter. Could we walk in the gardens? I'd rather it be private." she requested.

They made their way down a manicured gravel pathway that wound gently through the gardens and found an ancient, carved stone bench to sit on. A brook babbled quietly across from them, and the tree trunks covered in moss were leaning over them, eavesdropping on their presumed privacy.

"I'd like to apologize for today. Will's, well, under a tremendous amount of stress at the moment. I am certain he will speak to you before you return to San Francisco."

"It was unexpected," he replied. "Have we done anything to illicit that response?"

"No, you haven't," she answered him, and hesitated. "I need to ask your assistance regarding Emma, please." She paused. "A time is coming that will test her Sarek. She'll need your strength."

"Elaborate."

Anna took a deep breath and willed herself to say to him what she almost could not admit to herself. "Will is dying," she replied.

"Clarify."

"He has a malignant brain tumor. It's been treated once already, to no avail. We went to Inverness yesterday for a consultation. It's now into his bones."

"May I suggest a visit to the Vulcan Science Academy? The research facilities have made remarkable advances in the treatment of human illnesses such as this."

She smiled appreciatively. "Sarek, we've already been to Vulcan. He'll not survive this. It's the reason Will asked Emma to come perform this weekend. The chief arranged for the clan guard to take part in the final night of the tattoo so he could participate in it once more."

She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket and dried her eyes.

"What of his prognosis?" Sarek asked.

"Six to eight months," she answered softly, watching the brook in front of them babble quietly.

"I still am having trouble acknowledging the truth of the situation. My mind knows that my husband will die soon, but my heart is not accepting the matter. I cannot believe I will lose him in months. I have known him almost my entire life. We met when we were ten years old, and I could not stand him." She chuckled.

Sarek noted the women in this family were remarkably candid.

"He grew on me, though. We married at eighteen; Emma arrived two years later. All of the best parts of my life have involved him. It's a bittersweet thing to remember when he entered my life and know I'll be there as his soul will depart from me," she whispered softly, hesitating.

Sarek understood _exactly_ what she meant. In the early years of their marriage, Amanda would often become frustrated with him when she was working through an issue that gave her trouble, because he would attempt to develop a strategy to solve the problem, and in the course of doing so would not provide the one thing she needed the most: for him to simply listen.

"No one should experience this alone," he said.

"Please forgive me this emotional display. I've not had anyone else to talk to about this, and it's been buildin' up, I fear. Other than Ken and Murr, we've not revealed this to anyone but the Chief; he's been instrumental in assisting with travel and appointments. He got us to Vulcan."

"No apology is required."

She nodded gratefully, continuing.

"That is enough about me. May I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes."

"I am certain you will eventually be recalled to Vulcan. You have to go home sometime, right?"

"Correct."

"Do you have any idea when that might be? I only ask because Will thinks he'll not see her again. I do not mean to make excuse for his bad behavior, merely to offer _marginal enlightenment_."

"I can say with confidence that we will remain planet-side for approximately twelve months."

Footsteps crunched on the gravel pathway as the Clan Chief came around the corner and found them. "Hello Anna, Sarek. Have I interrupted anything too serious?" he asked.

"No, sir," she answered for them.

"How did the appointment go?"

She shook her head.

"You'll keep me informed of your needs then?" he asked of her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Reconciliation**

The short flight back from Dunvegan was quiet. Sarek checked the autopilot and turned to see Will, sitting sideways in his chair, soundly asleep, noticeably exhausted. Anna, compelled to keep things together for the sake of everyone around her, was sleeping, head in Murron's lap. Ken sat observing his younger brother, sadly.

Emma looked out the shuttle window at the landscape that rose and fell beneath them, the sun descending farther below the horizon, the mountains coal black with a golden outline accompanied by striking pinks, oranges, and blues in the twilight sky casting an eerie light on her face.

/I ask your forgiveness. I embarrassed you today./

/Forgiveness is granted, _aduna_ , but I prefer not to revisit that exchange./

Regardless of her father's choices, she knew she alone was responsible for her actions. With her it was always that impulse to respond, to equalize a perceived injustice, or speak out when insulted that got her into trouble.

Sarek silently listened to her thinking through the events of that afternoon. He hesitated a moment and then continued. /Emma, I request you resume communications with your father. This silence is unhealthy./

She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded silently.

Once home, Emma made a pot of coffee and went looking for her father. She saw him on the porch alone, and her reading of his emotions told her he was not feeling well. She grabbed two mugs and set out for the porch.

Will bundled up in a blanket, sitting in his favorite swing in the dark. Hearing the front door open and footsteps approaching he _thought_ belonged to his wife he spoke, trying to sound seductive and charming.

"Come and join me under my blanket, young lady. I'm feelin' better, and I'd truly enjoy the comfort of being in your arms this evening."

"I don't think I want to share _that_ blanket with my own father… how about a cup of coffee instead," she offered.

"Oh my. Em, you walk like your mother," he said, swimming in the awkward silence. "She has not forgiven today yet, evidently."

He scooted over and patted the swing, taking a steaming cup of coffee.

"So you're feeling better tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Compared to what?"

He was very quiet, not expecting to have this conversation at this particular moment.

"I don't think it wise to go into this right now..."

Anna awoke to voices outside and opened her window, intentionally eavesdropping on their conversation, hoping they would resolve the day's argument. There was no time for discord now.

"Da, I know something is up, and I'd very much like to put today behind us. I'll ask your forgiveness."

"I acted like an ass today. There are reasons, but none of them justify me belittling you, especially in front of him. I am sorry. I'll tell you something else: I did _not_ expect him to address me that way, either, but I'm glad he did. Well, no point in puttin' it off then. Telling you 'no' has never really been a plausible. You have always been the queen of the option not offered, you know that, right?" he asked, teasingly.

"Yeah, I know. It's a genetic trait, actually, from paternal genes."

Anna quietly closed the window, and decided the day forgiven. She would not waste another moment being angry with him; they were too few and precious.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Truth Hurts Sometimes**

Sarek awoke to hearing two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. He quietly moved to the other side of the bed, leaving a very warm spot for her. The steps paused, a was hug shared, and goodnights were said.

The door opened quietly as she tip-toed into the darkness of the room, making her way to the bed. After undressing, she gently snuggled down into a delicious warm spot, trying to not wake him. Her back to him, she began to cry softly, and he listened to her thoughts as she reasoned out what was going to happen to her father.

"Were you able to rectify the disagreement?" he asked.

"Yes." She hesitated, trying to stifle her tears. " _Adun_?"

" _Ha_?"

" _Dungi tev-tor A'nirih nash-veh_ , and soon," she exhaled quietly. She could not accept that her father was dying.

"Yes, Emma," he began, "he will."

 _The wind rushed in her ears so loudly it was painful, but if she cupped her hands over them, she could not hear him anymore. Emma strained to see in the swirling darkness, but could not completely focus: there – she finally saw him ahead of her._

 _Will smiled and waved, and she began to walk as she waved back. He was trying to tell her something, but that damned wind was howling around her. She stopped for a moment and realized that she was not making any progress toward him and began to jog in his direction._

Sarek awoke to Emma's movements during an animated dream.

 _She could see him and she picked up her pace to catch up, but as she arrived to where he was a violent gust of wind caused her to stumble, its deafening roar growing louder._

Her body jerked hard, as if she had fallen down.

 _As she regained her footing, he was farther away, and she set out at a dead run to him. He was encouraging her to catch up but no matter how hard she tried she could not quite reach him, and she stopped to catch her breath a moment._

The emotions over their bond were fear, building anxiety, and worry. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling sharply.

 _"Emma," her father shouted loudly over the gale, "I cannot wait too much longer!" His voice was again silenced by the wind._

 _She looked at Will, squinting her eyes, as his body appeared to ripple where he stood. He was mouthing words to her, but his voice was blotted out by that infernal wind. She squinted to make her eyes focus, but he was fading… and as she approached, Will began to physically dissolve in front of her... she snatched at his hands._

He watched her right arm reach out, grasping a handful of bed linens.

 _For a split-second she caught Will's fingertips with hers. He smiled at her, his eyes full of life – and to her horror, they faded from white to grey to black as his life left his body. His form blew away from her as sand in a storm, and she was alone in the swirling blackness - no one… nothing… nowhere._

Sarek placed his fingers at her temple, projecting calm and tranquility to her sleeping mind, stayed awake and watched over her until he was confident she was resting peacefully again.

He stretched gently and then rolled to his right only to find her already up and out of the room. He rose and dressed himself, hearing life stirring in the kitchen. Anna was humming again. He ventured through the living room smelling _theris-masu_ brewing.

"Good morning, Sarek." She smiled at him. "Emma told me this is your preferred tea blend. How do you take it?"

"As is," nodded appreciatively. "Have you seen Emma this morning?"

"She went out for a run - said something about needing to work off a bad dream. Will told me they talked last night. I am glad for that," she replied.

"May I ask a personal query?" He approached her gently.

"Family asks, Sarek," she teased lightly.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Caring for Will cannot be an easy task now, and it will only increase in its challenge as time progresses. I am concerned that you do not have enough assistance."

She looked down at the floor for a moment, thinking carefully. "Sarek, at present things are relatively under control. May I have a rain check?" she asked.

"What is a 'rain check'?" he asked.

She laughed softly, and then answered him.

"That means 'may I redeem your offer for later, please'?"

"Most certainly."


	16. Chapter 16

**The Tattoo**

With equipment stowed and passengers securely aboard, Sarek piloted through lifted off and set course for Edinburgh. Once in the flight line, he began to think about the previous day's practice.

He had witnessed military pageantry many times over in his career, and with interest, but he had not e such intensity as between her clansmen. They had rehearsed with an ever-vigilant effort, repeating maneuvers until they were perfect again and again. It was too military to have been simply for the sake of history.

"Emma, I understand the symbolic importance of the tattoo; however, I deduce that there is much more in this than simply playing percussion cadences and marching in time for the sake of what you would deem 'clan pride'. Is there more to this performance for your clan than its mere representation?" he asked.

She paused a moment, and then answered him. "It's complicated. Most who participate are honoring history. But it's different for us. My countrymen were spared the horrors of the eugenics wars by virtue of simple geography.

"We were largely left out of the picture because of what was thought to be a lack of natural, exploitable resources. But it's not an issue of the wars themselves that were so devastating."

"Elaborate."

"We are just far enough away from large-scale civilization that we were mostly ignored. After the initial attacks upon London, Manchester, and other cities, we were forgotten, and military protection was drawn to those areas. We were left to fend for ourselves.

"Once the wars were over and the fighting more or less finished, it became evident how widespread the devastation was. Millions of lives lost; financial losses in the quadrillions.

"So much of the landscape that had been attacked was uninhabitable for so long, and people were starving to death. They were riddled with disease and easily exploited by those who were not.

"Eventually, word spread that most islands around the world had a modicum of civilized communities. People began arriving in handcrafted boats, trying to fly in - it was a disastrous strain upon the distribution of natural resource we had established here," she finished as she laced her shoes securely.

"The primary problem was not in the management of the resources, it was the defense of those who were seeking refuge. The raiding of our settlements was aggressive, violent, and malicious."

"Our forefathers learned valuable lessons from centuries of fighting for independence. They never stopped training for defense of hearth and home. When the post-eugenic aggression began, our men _and_ women bore arms in defense of our freedom once again. No quarter was given.

"When aggressors arrived, we acted without hesitation in defense of our people regardless of whether they were biologically indigenous or had been grafted into our society," she said very quietly.

"We protect what is ours. No one has greater or lesser status," Ken said. "The battle tactics were inherited by oral tradition long after historical peace had been achieved."

"The women fought as well," Sarek said quietly, glancing at Emma.

"Oh yes, in fact, it's the origination of the expression 'a woman of Skye fears no man'," Anna added. "They were reputed more intimidating in battle than the men."

He cast a glance at her, and Emma smiled to herself as she checked her uniform one last time.

/You have nothing to fear in me./

Sarek watched groups assembling and making last minute preparations, as they walked toward the designated seating areas for the performing ensembles, and turned the corner, he marveled at the sight before him: the massed pipes and drums.

Three hundred pipers strong, representing each of the clans of the highlands, and the family groups of the lowlands. Observing the many differences in uniforms, he saw the McLeods in their Jacobite accoutrements.

Mostly male, the pipers were all a stocky lot, of the same physical breed he had been introduced to at the pub in Kyleakin the previous Wednesday night. Murron pointed excitedly as the cadence was counted off.

At that moment, the loudest unamplified musical sound he ever experienced began as the massed pipes began to play " _Bengullion_ " and enter the performance arena, the audience all around him cheering them as they marched in; each clan and family's banner was being carried by a young boy or girl, accompanied by their chief.

The massed drums followed the pipers in a military parade block, and then he saw her, one of only four women on the line. The pipers moved toward their appointed areas, as the line centered in the arena playing a percussion fanfare.

Anna offered information and back story for him as the performance progressed.

"The line is playing a combination of battle cadences. When our warriors approached the battlefield, they would begin these cadences far off, so the enemy would hear them coming. It was simply a psychological ploy to frighten their enemies, and many soldiers of the opposing armies would flee.

"We can only hope that God's mercy was on the souls of those who remained, for many of them did not survive. I don't advocate the death of another, enemy or not, particularly at the hands of my ancestors."

"Sarek, so many McLeods gave their lives in battle protecting their families and fighting for Scotland's freedom, that a gathering of chiefs once declared our clan would no longer be obligated to unite in battle because of heavy casualties," Murron said.

"We were nearly eradicated trying to protect our homeland. When you and Emma visit again, we need to vist the battlefields at Culloden, Bannockburn, Stirling: so many places. Our fathers and brothers fell at all of them."

Sarek recognized the significance of such losses. As the armies were essentially all male, that left thousands of women and children unguarded, starving, and easy prey to brigands and looters.

The battle for independence must have been worthwhile if it meant leaving your wife unprotected – and for a Vulcan, that was a most disturbing thought. He listened as the tattoo drew to a close with the massed pipes and drums reuniting in a rousing performance of " _Scotland, The Brave"._

The shuttle flight back to Kyleakin was again silent. The only light inside the craft was cast by the instrument panels, and once the course was set and autopilot confirmed, Sarek allowed himself to relax.

Will and Anna snuggled up together under his blanket. His physical appearance exhausted as the night before, his head resting on her shoulder as she held him in her arms. Sarek heard him say something quietly to her, but chose to ignore it out of courtesy. Anna kissed the top of his head in response and just held him.

Daniel had been recalled to his ship immediately after the performance was over, his leave canceled with orders to assist with a viral outbreak on the Terran Colony established on Bringloid V.

Ken, Murron, and Jenny stayed in Edinburgh to see him off and then travelled together on a family vacation.

Emma dozed in her chair, her blanket had fallen to the floor of the shuttle. Sarek picked it up and placed it gently over her shoulders, securing it over her to keep her warm. She stirred slightly, shifting in her seat.

Shortly after, they arrived at the family home, and Emma remained with Sarek in the craft as Anna and Will disembarked. As she drove them home from the landing pad she rubbed her neck and yawned.

"I am glad that is over with," she said with a chuckle. "Those pipes are loud enough in small groups, but three hundred? Honestly, I don't know how your ears survived that. It was bad enough on the grounds, but you should have heard them tune up before it all started."

He looked at her, pointedly. "I _did_ hear them tune up before it all started. That is the most diplomatic answer I can offer."

She laughed at him.

"Well said. Any Vulcan who would sit through that is a credit to their race, for certain," she teased him.

After a hot shower and a goodnight to her parents, Emma made her way to her room. The lights were off, so she entered quietly. The curtains were drawn, and she could not see where she was going, so she waited for her eyes to adjust and became aware of his presence as he stood next to her.

" _Aduna_ ," he whispered quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders, turning her toward him.

She smiled in the darkness and drew herself close to him, wrapped his arms. "I thank Thee for this life together. After Amada's death, I did not allow myself the possiblity," he stated, tracing his fingers over her curved ear.


	17. Chapter 17

**Returning To A New Reality**

2295.825

She watched her family grow smaller as the craft gained altitude and entered the flight line to San Francisco. Turning the past days, weeks, and months over in her head, she had much to consider: this consciousness they shared now was so foreign, but soothing. As they crossed the western coastline of Skye, she watched until she could not make out any detail. Once the land mass had vanished into the distance, she returned to her seat at his side.

"Sarek, as we're combining housekeeping, my apartment'll now available to accommodate guests. I wish to share this remaining time with my family inasmuch as possible," she said softly. She sighed quietly and looked ahead at the expansive water beneath them.

Ever efficient, Sarek availed himself of this private time to discuss matters she needed to understand. "As we are now bonded, social expectations of you have changed. You are my wife, and my primary duty is to protect you. Therefore, anywhere outside the embassy, I will precede you. The Protector represents family outside of home.

"In the morning, speak with T'Lyra regarding robes and attire for various occasions. The embassy tailor will assist you with the necessary alterations. Soran is currently creating a credit chip for all expenses. On the occasions our schedules are compatible, it would be most pleasing if you were to accompany me during my travels," he said in a soft voice.

"Understood, _Adun_. I feel uneasy as this is a portion of Vulcan culture I've no point of reference for. You'll educate me, I trust. I don't wish to misrepresent our family."

Standing outside the shuttlecraft, they were approached by Soran and his bond-mate T'Lyra. Sarek paired his two fingers to Emma's, warmth and affection flowing between them, his face impassive.

" _Osu_ ," Soran began, observing the embrace, "I trust your journey was free of negative incident. New diplomatic assignments arrived moments ago." He bowed his head slightly to her, a gesture he had never made before. As embassy staff performed duties to secure the shuttle, they made the same gesture to her.

" _T'Sai_ Emma, welcome home," Soran said, before turning to reenter the embassy.

/How do they know already?/

/Soran was informed yesterday, but this form of public intimacy is reserved for bond-mates alone. It is unmistakable./

"T'Lyra will assist you personally from this point forward," Sarek said outwardly, noting she already had Emma's bags in hand.

She watched him walk inside, and then turned to her new assistant, and smiled. "It's my pleasure to meet you, T'Lyra. You'll forgive my ignorance over coming weeks. I've never had an assistant before. It's not something I'm accustomed to – and please – call me Emma. Let me help a bit, at least," she trailed off, picking up her drum.

"Service to Sarek is my honor. I am certain we shall establish a positive working relationship… Emma."

After returning instruments to their rightful place in her office, the two women walked toward the elevators, stopping at the security desk. Savel stood and bowed to her.

" _T'Sai_ , your credentials are updated," he said, handing her a new ID chip.

"Thank you. You'll please give this to T'Naara?" she asked, handing him a small, wrapped gift. Inside was a pair of angora gloves to keep her small hands warm during the coming winter.

"I shall."

They stood in the elevator, waiting for the third floor when T'Lyra spoke.

"When the Ambassador notified Soran to create the credit chip," she paused to hand it to Emma, "he instructed your personal belongings transferred to his residence. You will notify me of any need."

"Understood – and thank you."

Standing in her new home, Emma was delighted by Jake cheeping at her feet, reaching toward her for affection. She was rewarded with his motor-like purr as she rubbed his ears and scratched under his chin.

"I missed you, too."

She carefully explored the apartment, feeling slightly intrusive. Soft hues of green, blue, brown, and grey flowed throughout in a comforting style. She found the meditation chamber silent and cold in his absence. Arriving at what was now _their_ bedroom, she discovered her belongings already put away, in the same organizational manner she used in her own home. Her new assistant was observant and thorough.

A note from T'Lyra lay on her pillow.

T'Sai, _I am available at your convenience to assist in selection and fitting of your clan robes and other attire tomorrow morning. The hydroshower has been calibrated should you prefer it._

Deciding a hot shower was the best course of action she went into the bathroom and discovered her toiletries all in order. It was a great help that this task was done. Once refreshed and preparing for sleep, she padded through the apartment quietly and found the tea, brewing enough for both of them. She took her cup to the living room, started the firepot, and stretched out on the sofa.

Sarek did not have much experience with cats, but he found Jake to be a fascinating and pleasant creature, especially when he was convinced Sarek could not see him. Even as his back was turned, he knew Jake was stalking him from the living room as the tiny bell on his collar tinkled, revealing his location. Sarek found a small piece of paper, crumpling it into a dense wad as he had seen Emma do the previous Tuesday evening.

"My friend, this paper would be a much more satisfying target than I," Sarek said, flicking the paper wad into the dining room.

A low growling was followed by the black and white flash through the air that snatched the paper wad into deadly paws. Jake rolled across the floor and lay on his side, biting and kicking. When finally satisfied it was subdued he ran away with it.

Sarek removed his boots and hung his heavy robe, thinking about the previous days, assembling a list of tasks requiring attention. The top of that list was notifying the House of Surak of its newest member.

The comm-unit chimed softly. He answered it and was greeted by the image of his son, Spock, and sat down.

"Play current message."

Dif-tor heh smusma, Sa-mehk. _I have received orders to bring the Intrepid II in for crew rotations, and would inquire as to your availability. Provided no emergent situations require our service, I anticipate arrival in six weeks. Please advise of availability._

Sarek made a mental note to write a reply to Spock in the morning, and then picked up a holopic, activating it after a moment of hesitation. In the darkness, the colors shone vividly. Soft, sparkling blue eyes looked at him, black and silver locks on her shoulders, and her radiating smile. He allowed himself a moment of memory…

" _Amanda, you must not be up. Your healer was very clear about this. I fail to understand why you insist on defying her instructions."_

" _I_ know _what she said, Sarek. I was there," she teased him, and then continued. "I thought I would see if you could be distracted from your work long enough to have lunch with me."_

 _Sarek quickly placed his PADD and stylus on the desk and rose to meet her halfway through the study, her gait growing more unsteady. Her condition had grown worse, and she was weakening each day. He could see it, she knew, the staff knew._

 _Seeing the concern in his eyes, she spoke._

 _"Love, I am not about to allow this to steal everything from me. It will take my life, but not my happiness. Now come have lunch, even if Vulcans don't,_ Adun _," she requested, holding his hand, "N'arein has made fresh_ kreyla _and brought fruit in from the market."_

 _He savored every moment of that meal with Amanda, indulging in moments of softness and sentimentality with her when the staff was elsewhere in the estate. It was then that she interrupted this indulgence with a topic he did not wish._

" _Sarek, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you."_

" _What is it, Beloved?"_

" _I think you and I both know what it is," she paused and looked at him pointedly, "and although you do not wish to discuss it, we must."_

 _He gently put his fork down. He could not allow himself to consider what she was about to say. It was inconceivable that this ending was coming to her now._

" _You've given me more than I could've ever hoped for my life. You taught me the meaning of respect for life beyond my own paradigm – provided me experiences far beyond what I'd've had._ _Together, we created a son, a vivid representation of IDIC. You're a remarkable and attentive husband. I'm grateful for it all, Sarek, so very grateful._ _You've asked so little of me in return. I'm absolutely certain that if I had it all to do again, I'd not change anything. I still believe myself to be a most fortunate Earth woman."_

 _He silently listened, watching tears begin to drop from her eyes. It pained him to see her cry; it was something she did not do often. He reached out his hand to hers and held it gently._

" _Sarek, I don't weep for myself - I weep for you. The coming time is going to be very, very trying, and I wish that I could prevent it."_

"K'diwa _, that is illogical. Death comes to all, it is the nature of things."_

" _I know that, sweetheart, believe me, I do. I also know how Vulcans are when a bond-mate dies. Some never recover," She squeezed his hand gently, her soft blue eyes searching his. "I cannot bear the thought of that for you. I've asked a lot of you in this amazing life we've shared, but I've one last request of you. Will you hear it?"_

 _He nodded silently, bracing himself for the one thing he wished she would not ask._

" _Sarek, promise me that you will seek another wife. Whomever she may be, wherever she is from, it only matters to me that you find another who will care for you and nurture you…love you just as you are, not expect you to be anything more than that. You devoted your life to the service of your people, and have always seen to my security and happiness. You've given me a satisfying marriage. Promise me that you will allow yourself to care for_ you _\- "she paused as he committed a rare interruption._

" _Amanda, I - "_

" _Hear me out, please," she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Take the time you must, but promise me you will continue to live - not just exist."…_

Amanda's passing had been quiet and peaceful, in his arms on the veranda that overlooked the _Sas-a-shar_ desert stretching expansively beyond his estate. Soran and T'Lyra waited inside as it happened, grieving her loss together privately, then assisting Sarek in the preparations for her memorial - as always, faithful, dutiful friends in all things.

After the memorial, Soran quietly approached Sarek with a box Amanda had prepared for him. Once in solitude, he opened it realizing what it was. He sat in _her_ rocking chair and switched the frame on. He looked upon her lovely face, set it on the end table, and then opened the accompanying envelope. Her beautiful script flowed across stationary.

 _My Dearest Sarek,_

 _I can't imagine what you're experiencing now. I sincerely wish you'd been spared this._ _Please consider what we discussed this afternoon. I love you dearly, my sweet, precious husband._ _May your life continue to be long, peaceful, and again filled with prosperity. My only wish is your finding joy and satisfaction again._

 _Amanda_

In the evenings after his duties were completed he would find himself ill at ease with the quiet of the newly empty home, finding comfort in activating the holopic. Sarek now looked upon her face a moment longer, grateful for the image, and then switched the frame off and placed it in the desk drawer.

"I have kept my promise to Thee," he whispered gently.

Walking quietly through the apartment he found Emma asleep on the sofa. Setting his tea next to hers, he gently lifted her up enough to sit and rest her head upon his lap. She stirred softly, and smiled at him.

"How long have you been here?"

"Six point four minutes," he answered. "Jake has adjusted to the new living conditions quite well."

They watched as he batted the paper wad across the living room floor and into the hallway.

"Apparently so. I see you found your tea."

"Yes. Will you sleep here, or join me?" he asked.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Convergence**

 _Emma walked through a field at the edge of the Trotternish Peninsula, where she and the other children ran and played as they grew up; her earliest memories were there._

 _The sea breeze was fresh and briny, heather tall, and grass emerald green with thistle swaying gently in the breeze as she came to a stop, observing the stocky figure ahead. He was looking out over the North Sea as the wind whipped through his black hair._

 _Could it really be him?_

 _She reached out and gently touched his shoulder, stunned when he turned and smiled, with a tiny infant cradled in his left arm._

" _Emma darling, it's good to see you again," Bruce said gently, his blue eyes gazing into hers. "We've missed you."_

 _The tiny child squeaked and yawned in his father's embrace._ _She suddenly became aware of countless men, women, and children surrounding them - her ancestors silently watching. "This can't be real."_

" _Sure it is. All things are possible, especially the highly improbable. That's how you know 'em to be true," Bruce answered her. He reached out and gently traced his fingers down her cheek._

" _You both died, and a long time ago at that. This is not real."_

 _The tiny boy reached a hand up in the air at the sound of her voice. She touched his hand and he grasped her finger reflexively._

" _Perhaps, instead of deciding this is unreal, you can take this for what it is," he suggested._

" _So what's it then?" she asked, looking at them all._

" _Call it a convergence. It's not been good for you to be alone as you have. I love you, and I am glad for this new life that has come to ya," he replied, holding her hand in his. "Emma, please forgive me for departing from you. I lost hope."_

" _I know. It's forgiven."_

" _I cherished you my whole life. Now it's time to allow him to do the same."_

" _How?" she asked, feeling confused and conflicted._

" _You can start by goin' to him," Bruce said with a teasing smile._

" _What?"_

" _He is right behind you, woman, he's waitin' for ya," Bruce replied, pointing over her shoulder, chuckling._

 _Emma turned around to see Sarek standing next to her. Their paired fingers touched, bond surging._

"Aduna _, who were you speaking to?" Sarek asked._

" _Bruce. He's right here, you must meet him. He's - "_

 _She turned back only to find them all gone. Sarek watched as she looked for the spectres of the long dead._

"Emma?" Sarek whispered, trying to wake her gently. " _K'diwa_."

She inhaled sharply and sat upright in the darkness.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"I was at the Trotternish, and I found Bruce there with our son and my entire ancestral family, it was really strange. Bruce told me that he missed me, I told him I didn't think that they were real," she paused. "He said that the most improbable things are quite often very true."

"Logical."

"How is that logical?" she asked with heightened skepticism.

"When attempting solution, elimination of the impossible results in the improbable remaining – truth lies therein."

"Well when you put it that way. He called our meeting a convergence. He told me that he was glad that you and I are together because he felt it not good for me to be alone as I have ."

"I do not expect your participation in this marriage as if the past meant nothing; it would be impossible for me to do so as if Amanda had never entered my life. This can be only what it is: beginning. _Tahluk nash-veh._ I am grateful for all potentialities in our future," he replied.

She was aware of life in the room much earlier than she deemed necessary, and rolled over to him as he stretched and sat up. His very lean muscle structure flexed as he stretched his back gently and then sat still as she traced her fingers up the center of his spine.

"What's the time?" she asked him quietly.

"0500 hours," he said, leaning toward her for a kiss.

After dressing, she prepared breakfast, deciding on fruit, _kasa_ juice, and _kreyla_. Returning from meditation, he poured a cup of coffee for her, prepared a plate for her and then served himself. As they were beginning to eat, the door chime rang.

Emma answered to find Soran.

"I must speak with the ambassador."

"You will join us in first-meal."

They entered the dining room he sat with them, preparing a small plate.

"I just received an urgent request to modify the appointment scheduled with you by the Ariannan ambassador."

"They have modified that request six times already," Sarek replied. "My schedule cannot accommodate this request for three weeks."

Soren paused a moment. "Your schedule will accommodate them in exactly fourteen point three minutes."

Soran absorbed the look that Sarek gave him, continuing. "They are currently en route. The ambassador has been recalled with urgency and requested the meeting prior to his departure, and sending his apologies for the inconvenience."

Emma walked into her office and began to filter through the mail, messages, and parcels that had arrived during her absence. One message on the com-unit was of particular interest, from the Center for Xenocognitive Perception and Linguistic Research on Nisus.

The abstract she submitted for a research presentation segment in their upcoming conference, exploring the development of languages and metric patterns had piqued the interest of the selection committee.

Sarek was proofreading his response to Spock when a knock rapped on his door frame.

"Soran said you had three minutes until your next appointment, but I only need one. I have some good news. I submitted my linguistic abstract to the CRPLX in June. They have offered me the keynote for the second day," she answered with a satisfied smile.


	19. Chapter 19

**A Different Perspective**

USS Intrepid II

Captain's Quarters

 _Captain's Log, Stardate 2295.826_

 _Captain Spock recording:_

 _We have successfully completed our survey of the gravitational anomalies bordering the Betreka Nebula._

 _All preliminary reports suggest the influence of the gravitational fields naturally originates from within the nebula. However, they pose a moderate threat to standard navigational sensor units._

 _My final report will request that warning buoys be deployed per standard procedure, pending a secondary investigational mission to verify consistency of the preliminary readings over time._

 _Performance Commendations to be awarded to Ensign Lowery for exceptional efforts in repairs to the deflector dish as mentioned in yesterday's log; to Lieutenant Jadassohn for her creative solution preventing the fungal destruction of the dietary supplement gardens needed by our Tellarite crewmen; and finally to Crewman Davies for her management of the modifications to the scanning equipment used by Stellar Cartography during exploration of the nebula._

 _Our current orders instruct timely delivery of necessary medical supplies for a parasitic outbreak on two planets in the Aldebaran system. We are currently en route, and I expect arrival in 2.823 light days._

 _Spock out._

Leaning back, Spock proofread the log entry before saving it and retiring for the night. He was pleased the gravitational survey was complete, as it had been a challenge to the helmsmen aboard his vessel. Civilian vessels would find the region very difficult to navigate with the standard.

He changed into his meditation robes and knelt before the brazier and placed incense inside, beginning to clear his mind with the most basic meditation sequences, and his com-unit chimed.

He rose from the floor and activated the audio response button, not particularly interested in being seen out of uniform by his crew, even if it were the officer of the watch.

"Spock here."

"Sir, you have an incoming subspace message, encoded on private frequency. Shall I decode here or send it to you directly?"

"Point of origin?"

"Earth, sir, on private encryption."

"I will receive it as is, in my quarters."

"Aye, Captain."

He activated the decoding software used by the Vulcan government for personal communications and waited patiently for it to complete its cycle, accessed the message, and looked upon his father's face, noting something different.

Ever since his mother's death, Spock made a concerted effort to communicate more frequently with his father than the past. It was the last thing she asked of him…

… _Amanda smiled when she saw Spock's face appear on the com-unit. She was in her nightgown and robe, wrapped up in a blanket against the cold air of the desert night._

" _Spock! What a surprise. Is everything ok?"_

"Ha _,_ Ko-mehk _._ Sa-mehk _informed that you are not well. I wished to speak with you."_

" _This is expensive, Spock. You could've sent a delayed message."_

" _I prefer real-time, '_ Maih _."_

 _She loved that he would still use that affectation with her in his adulthood._

" _How are you, sweetheart?"_

" _I am fine. Are you in need of anything?"_

" _Not really. It's just a matter of time now. My healer says it's progressing faster than expected, but I am determined to enjoy myself, and you've added to my joy today. My only regret is I'm not able to work the garden anymore."_

 _"Has anyone been charged with its care?"_

" _N'arein is managing it beautifully." Amanda looked at him directly._

 _"Spock, I have a request of you."_

 _He looked at her and nodded. "Anything_. _"_

" _Promise you'll look after your father, Spock. My death will be very hard on him. I know it will be for you as well, but Sarek is my bond-mate. The last thing I want is for his life to end as well. He'll likely not articulate his needs to you, so please be aware that extra communication or visits will give great support to him."_

 _Her death was not an issue Spock wanted to consider. Although he knew it was inevitable, even if her disease was incurable, illogically, he could not accept its imminent arrival._

" _As you wish."_

" _Spock, would you permit a personal indulgence?"_

" _Of course."_

" _When I was a little girl, I had this plan for my life. I was going to marry a businessman, have three children, and live in my grandmother's home, teaching at the local school. I had all the details worked out in my mind._

" _Then I ended up in an introductory Vulcan language class because the course I needed was full, and I fell in love with a beautiful language and culture. Then your father ruined everything: handsome, intelligent, and delighted with me. We were bonded, and two years later, we were gifted with you._

" _From the moment I gave you birth, the first time I looked into your beautiful brown eyes, I knew I was blessed. Your first words, steps, the practical jokes - all of it - I was always certain of one thing: I was, and still am, filled with pride in who you are, and the man you have become._

" _You are a model Vulcan citizen, a remarkable officer in Starfleet, and most importantly, a treasure to me. You have exceeded all hopes and dreams I dared have for you. Other parents desire to have such a son, and I see him realized in you."…_

Spock looked at a holopic of his parents together. Unbeknownst to them, it had been taken by Soran two days before Amanda died. They were looking at one another, fingers paired, sitting in the garden, T'Khut watching over them.

He had received the holopic and a letter from his mother in a delivery from Soran very soon after her memorial. As irrational as it seemed, he had not been able to bring himself to read his mother's letter, until now. Opening it gingerly, his hands trembled as he read it.

 _My Sweet Boy,_

 _I know that when you read this, I will be gone. I thank you for your call tonight; it was refreshing to see you again. Please know you brought peace to my heart._

 _I understand your commitment to your duties, my son. I respect that, and I also recognize that which is absent from your life experiences. May I please intrude upon your privacy to ask that you consider that which surrounds you?_

 _I love you dearly, my gentle boy._

 _A'maih_

He felt a surge of grief rise through his chest. Instead of suppressing it, he chose to acknowledge his Human side - his mother's side - and allowed it to surface, fill him for a moment, and then quietly fade away. Gently, he folded the letter and replaced it in its envelope.

"Computer, commence playback of decoded message," he whispered softly.

 _My Son,_

 _Thank you for your message regarding the possibility of your visit. It would be most satisfying if your schedule will allow. My official schedule appears to accommodate the timing. Let us continue to discuss the possibility as the time draws nearer._

 _There is another matter I must discuss with you. I have taken a wife, and along with this communication, forwarded her dossier._

 _May your travels be free from danger,_ Sa-fu _._

Spock opened the attached file, reading about the woman who had captured his father's heart. An Earth woman, 38 years of age. He recognized her name: the director of the FCID and Composer Laureate to the Federation. Fascinating. He found himself curious because better than anyone else in the universe, Spock knew that Sarek of Vulcan was not known for casual, careless decisions.

He thought on his mother again…

… _His earliest memories began in his infancy…fragments of communication, smiling blue eyes, warmth in her arms, a feeling of safety, a delicate voice singing softly when he was frightened, feeding, and her delight at the laughter of a Vulcan infant._

 _As a small child working with her in the greenhouse, learning how to repot plants, to fertilize and water them, her hands guiding his small ones in the gentle care of growing things, her patience with his coordination. She always found projects that she just could not possibly complete without his assistance, and the feeling of contribution to her satisfaction filled him with pride each time._

 _As he returned with the other children from his_ kahs'wan _she stood quietly beside his father and said nothing beyond the customary greetings, at least in public. In the privacy of their home, she sat with him in his room and told him how proud she was of him, enduring the dangers of the journey and conducting himself as an adult, even in the midst of potential failure._

" _Your choice to sacrifice your own success to preserve the life of another demonstrates profound maturity, Spock," she said gently. "You represent the best that we both have to give."_

 _When the other children in school were so cruel, she would reinforce the positives of the life he had, continuing to find ways that her life would simply not be satisfying without his assistance. Secretly it had helped him to feel less miserable, at least a little._

" _Spock, always remember that the feelings you have are normal, whether you're Human, Vulcan, or both. It is the manner in which we allow our feelings to manipulate us that matters. Do not deny your anger and heartache, but do not allow them to dictate your interactions with others, or permit them to steal your satisfaction with life. You are the only person who can take that from you."_

 _As he completed his education and chose Starfleet, she had supported his decisions to do what he believed was best for his life, even in the disapproval of his father. She had nurtured them both in the recovery from Sarek's surgery, encouraged their reconnection afterward, and agonized over his death in battle against Khan._

 _After the success of the Refusion, his re-education had proceeded well, until the computer asked how he felt. She helped him to understand the Human side of his nature once again._

"A debt I can never repay," he said quietly.

He continued to read about Emma, learning about her educational record, professional abilities, and historical background. He recognized her family, having read the works written by her father and uncle.

"Computer, locate poetic translation records by Emma C. McGregor."

"Specify."

"Number of extant records?"

"One thousand, five hundred sixty-three."

"Display random selection, quantity five," he instructed.

He read a few works with interest, but the fifth gave him pause: _Deal Gently With My Love_. He was stunned by her perception and understanding of the nature of the bond-mate relationship. Such foreshadowing.


	20. Chapter 20

**Perfect Practice Makes Perfect**

2295.922

Nearly a month had passed since returning from Skye, and as Emma sat on their balcony eating her dinner alone, she silently gave thanks that Sarek was returning home that evening. His message indicated the Madrossian negotiations were successful, and the delegation managed to depart a few days earlier than scheduled.

Her students were moving rapidly through the newer materials and more assertive pace she established. Her doorbell chimed, drawing her back into the present. She answered it to find Sulok, Savel, Sonek, and T'Naara, amused to see the grandfather, his son, and two grandchildren all in age and height order.

"Good evening," she smiled, the visit unexpected.

T'Naara approached her with several globe fruit in her hands.

" _Osavensu_ , we have an abundant harvest this year."

 _Ah – a test of etiquette…You've got this, McGregor_ , she thought privately.

" _Nemaiyo_ , T'Naara." Recalling a lesson earlier that week about receiving a gift of food, she continued. "Will you share this with me?"

As they followed into the kitchen and she prepared the fruit thinking herself most fortunate. It was a significant moment to be visited at home, in an unofficial capacity. In Vulcan culture, friendship was not given lightly, trust not easily earned.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked.

They each deferred to Sulok, youngest to oldest. So Vulcan.

" _O'savensu_ ," Sulok began, "Your instructions clearly stated that we are each to compose our own works for our performance on the concert, however we request permission to perform an ensemble work together instead."

"Indeed? Elucidate, please," she asked, interested in their proposal. She was not in the least bit surprised they had a counter offer, and decided she would have felt mildly disappointed had they not.

Standing in the elevator bags in hand, Sarek was most grateful to be home and, soon, with his wife. He approached the door to his quarters hearing several voices inside. Entering the apartment quietly he placed his belongings inside the office just past the front door and listened as he hung his robes and changed out of his heavier boots.

"Sulok, you will become the voice of Surak? The timbre of your voice would be an excellent representation," she said.

"I have already begun preliminary composition, _O'savensu_."

"Good evening," Sarek said, entering the living room.

They watched as he approached her, pairing his fingers to hers.

/ _K'diwa._ It is pleasing to see you again./

/Welcome home./

Emma then remembered another duty of etiquette she had also just learned about that week, and addressed Sulok directly. "May I bring you more tea?"

She knew they expected her to clarify whether the invitation to stay would be extended, or if she desired they depart. If she wished them to remain, she would prepare the tea without offering. Her question allowed them the honor of deciding to end the visit on their terms, thus granting them respect.

Recognizing her request for privacy, Sulok, discouraged the tea service. "Lady Emma. Your hospitality is generous, but we must depart."

Standing as he replied, Sulok prescribed for the rest what would happen, The Protector, representing _his_ family outside _his_ home, just as Sarek described.

"As you will, _Osu_ ," she replied, bowing respectfully.

It seemed backwards to her, but this ancient etiquette was from a time that required exacting prescription of expectations.

The Awakening had changed everything.

Despite his protests, T'Naara gently removed Jake from her lap. Evidently cats did not respect social expectations in any culture – they were xenocultural discriminators.

As she saw them out, Sarek cleaned up the dishes from their visit. _/Aduna t'nash-veh_. Will you join me, please?/


	21. Chapter 21

**Respect Works Both Ways**

He kissed her gently and escorted her to the balcony. Ensuring they had privacy, he approached from behind, placing his arms around her waist, and shared the warmth of his robes. Looked on the gardens in the moonlight, he relished in her scent. She held his arms as they pulled her close to his body.

"I wish to show you T'Khut's light on the desert near Shi'Khar."

Holding her closely, her back against his chest, he kissed her neck and her skin tingled.

"Mmm, you're teasing me."

"Perhaps. I have something for you."

She turned around in his arms, allowing his robe to fall to the side as he handed her a small box. Inside she found two wedding bands of the same design, one larger and one smaller. They were each an endless Celtic knot, made of gold and silver set onto a platinum ring base.

A message was engraved on the inside of hers: _Taluhk nash-veh aduna_.

He had commissioned the rings from an artisan jeweler on Skye, and had to make arrangements with Will to get her ring engraved so he would not be subjected to inquiries as to the meaning.

Her father agreed on the condition that he tell _him_. Sarek reluctantly agreed.

"I Cherish Thee, My Wife," she translated. "You did not have to have two made," she said quietly. "I know it's not customary for you to wear one."

Gently taking the ring from her, he placed it on the third finger of her left hand.

"Out of respect for Vulcan culture, I wear the signet of my House. Out of respect for you, I will wear the symbol of our bonding."

Her eyes went to the ring remaining in the box. She looked at it, then his hand, and then him. He nodded affirmatively to her.

"I will consent to wearing the ring on one condition: perhaps you will think of something worthy of engraving on mine?"

Steadying her hands, she placed it on his third finger, left hand, a perfect fit.

Footfall was heard moving through the garden. They looked down to see Soran and T'Lyra walking, oblivious to their audience, pausing to pair fingers. Emma would have sworn she saw a faint smile on the woman's face. They stood there for a moment and then continued on down the pathway.

"My wife, attend," Sarek requested quietly.

She stopped long enough to close the French doors to the balcony, and then sat with him in front of the firepot.

"They are a beautiful couple," she said quietly. "Do they have any children?"

"No. T'Lyra developed _yukal-rasahtra_ very early in their bonding _._ The only option to preserve her life was surgery. Ovarian cancer is rare among our women."

"I can't begin to imagine what that was like for him," pausing thoughtfully, Emma looked at him, and continued. "I have a feeling you do, though."

In the darkness of the room, scattered with firelight, his silence was protracted. He put his arm around her. "Indeed. Because of you, I do not bear such concern anymore."

While he was bathing, she unpacked his belongings and then dressed in her favorite nightgown. She activated the privacy lock on the front door and sat in what had become her favorite chair in the soft light of flickering coals.

He returned to her, fresh and clean, and pulled her to him gently, wrapping his arms around her body, inhaling her scent deeply. She held him tightly and kissed his neck, trailing her way to his collar bone.

"I missed you," She trailed off.

His hands touched the soft fabric that barely covered her body, trailing fingertips on her skin, teasing her. A soft moan rumbled inside his throat. " _K'diwa_ , your absence was noticeable."

Leaning forward she began kissing his neck, nibbling from one side to another. He found the buttons on the front of her gown and unbuttoned the top one, tracing the skin it exposed.

She gently ran her fingertips along his ears and she felt a surge in her mind as she experienced his sensations. He made his way to the third button down and he unfastened it.

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, kissed her, and then began trying to remove the now uncooperative gown.

/How can something so delicate be so difficult?/ he thought to himself, fumbling with a particularly obstinate button.

She laughed inwardly, reaching to help him, opening the remaining buttons so the gown merely hung on her shoulders. Her body illuminated by the firelight, he was taken aback by her eyes, smoldering as he had not seen before. She allowed the gown to fall softly from her shoulders to the floor.

He reached his hand out slowly, caressing her gently with the back of his fingers as he grazed across her breasts, bringing her close to him. He stroked her neck, shoulders, and then rested his hands upon her hips as his body responded strongly to hers. His pupils dilated such that she could almost no longer see the color of his eyes. In those deep black pools she sensed wanton desire to connect with her, and at his urging she followed him to their bed chamber.

It was very early morning when Emma awakened to a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Will you share breakfast with me, or sleep? It is early, and I will understand if you choose sleep," he said, realizing how much he missed her bed-head while he was away.

"Do you have time for lunch?" she asked, feeling more sluggish than usual.

"Possibly. Rest now," he said, his fingers entwined with hers.

She rolled over mumbling what sounded like a 'thank you', and was sound asleep. He lightly stroked her back and shoulders, extending feelings across their bond he could not openly express.

After breakfast he set out to his office, finding Soran already there attending to communications that had arrived in the night. He nodded at him and watched Sarek walk into his office and thought about the previous evening…

… _He and T'Lyra had retired, nearly asleep when they became abundantly aware of the thinness of the walls, hearing their neighbor's love-making: pleading, intimate conversation, joining, moving, her delaying resolution for the sheer enjoyment of making him wait, his deep-throated growls of intimate frustration, followed by extended, mutual release._

 _At breakfast that morning, he and T'Lyra had broken the customary silence to discuss the issue._

" _T'hyla?"_

 _She looked up almost surprised at hearing his voice. Soran was not given to breaking tradition simply because opportunity presented itself. On the contrary, he would maintain it almost illogically when the opportunity came._

" _Yes?"_

 _He was clearly struggling with how to address the issue. She sensed shame for his awareness of what they had witnessed the evening prior. She saw it from another perspective._

" _I find her to be a most acceptable bond mate. The Ambassador has been isolated too long. There is no reason for him to be sequestered from a life of fulfillment."_

 _He pushed his fruit around the plate, not responding._

" _Do you find the aesthetic arrangement of the_ naric _displeasing?" she asked, a faint smile on her face._

 _He put his fork down, thinking before he spoke – always cautious and thoughtful._

" _Husband. Speak freely with me always."_

 _As he looked into her eyes, he could only think of how grateful he was for her._

" _I am satisfied he has found a compatible mate. Dr. McGregor is a respectable, accomplished female, with remarkable empathy and forethought for those around her. I have concern for this relationship, however," he found it difficult to say what he thought._

" _Why?" she asked, stopped by one of the few times in their bonding that she could not sense his thoughts. He had shielded his mind from her in a way unlike before._

" _Humans simply do not live long enough. It was difficult to stand and watch as T'Sai Amanda perished. It will be difficult once again when her time comes. I would be dishonest if I did not acknowledge the fear I felt when you were nearly lost me."_

 _She reached for his hand, pairing their fingers together._

" _You are a singular Vulcan, my husband. My respect and admiration for you is beyond measure. You fulfill your duties to me as The Protector to the highest standard, and what have I given you in return? I perform my duties as aduna to the best of my ability, but I will bear you no children. Your line will end with you because of me – yet you choose me. Your consideration for my needs is above reproach - "_

"Aduna _\- "_

" _Hear me, Soran," she paused, waiting for him._

" _It is only logical to support that which is rational, serving good purpose._ T'Sai _Emma has not replaced Lady Amanda. She is fulfilling an entirely different role in the Ambassador's life. Have you not seen the change in his demeanor since their bonding? There is measurable increase in the satisfaction he carries each day."_

" _That is indisputable."_

" _I willingly serve the needs of his family because it brings me satisfaction to promote his sense of life purpose. His duties are best fulfilled with the support of his_ aduna _," she thought for a moment, and then continued. "As irrational as it might seem, I like Emma very much. She is a rare individual."_

" _As are you. Had our situation been different – we had children – we would not share this life with him now. Regarding what you have given me, I find the fullest measure of satisfaction in you. I would have no other."_


	22. Chapter 22

**An Inauspicious Beginning**

2295.930

After a quiet dinner together on the balcony, as was their custom, Sarek and Emma watched the sun set over San Francisco Bay, chatting about the events, schedules that week, and the memorial concert for Shiyoran Ka'alte that would be presented that Saturday evening.

The com-unit chimed. Emma rose to answer it while Sarek poured another cup of tea for them both. She accepted an incoming transmission from a vaguely familiar Vulcan male. She could not place his name in her mind, but felt certain she had seen him before.

" _Dvin-tor, Osu, uf sos nash-veh_?" she asked, following the customs she was being tutored in.

Spock looked at her momentarily, one eyebrow rising slowly. Clearly receiving customary instruction, she was learning quickly. Her accent was _very_ unusual.

"Your service honors me, _T'Sai_. I would speak with the ambassador," he responded formally, uncertain she knew who he was, as logic told him she did not.

"Certainly. Whom may I say is speaking?" she asked, clueless to his identity.

"Spock cha Sarek cha Skon, _T'sai._ "

Emma's eyes widened slightly and her jaw dropped as she suddenly recognized the familial resemblance. Her face flushed wildly with embarrassment.

"Forgive me, _Osu_. I will get your father immediately," she apologized softly, disappearing from the viewer. She walked out onto the balcony, rather perturbed. "Sarek, you have a call."

"Your tea, _Aduna_. Who is it?" It was uncustomary for formal communications to forward to their residence outside of emergent conditions.

"Spock," she replied. She just looked at him in frustration. "I didn't know it was him - and _that_ was embarrassing. The first time we meet and I don't even know who he is. Honestly."

Sarek chastised himself inwardly. He had not intended this, it simply was not a priority over his assignments. It would be from this point forward. "The fault is mine, not yours. I failed to anticipate his call. Excuse me."

Spock heard every word of their conversation, choosing not to reveal this as he was greeted by his father.

"Spock. Peace and long life to you, my son."

"And you, Father. Please accept my apologies for the disruption this evening. We have arrived at space dock ahead of schedule."

"Indeed. Will your schedule permit a visit?"

"Yes, sir. I will arrive Thursday at 1100 hours."

"Acceptable. It is satisfying to see you, my son. How long will you be able to stay with us?"

"We are scheduled to transport a group of researchers to Nisus for an upcoming conference. Our departure is ordered for Sunday evening."

"Understood. Until Thursday, _Sa-fu._ "

Sarek returned to the balcony finding her thoughts unusually quiet. She remained silent, determined he would address the _faux pas_.

"I ask forgiveness. I did not intend for your first meeting to be so inauspicious." He waited for her to respond.

She resigned herself from trying to stay angry with him. "Well, what's done is done, no changin' it," her expression softening. "I think he had difficulty understanding me at first. My accent is not improving."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment.

"It will in due time."


	23. Chapter 23

**Feeling Funky**

Emma's Thursday morning began early, up at 0400 hours for her daily run. Dress rehearsals and Spock's visit would take precedence in the evenings. As she dressed in her shorts and a t-shirt, she looked at Sarek, who appeared to be sleeping soundly. She smiled to herself in triumph, actually up before he was for a change.

/There is a first time for everything, _Aduna_./

She smiled broadly, and then walked to the bed and sat on the edge next to him. She gently stroked his face and tried to manage his bed-head, finding it as ornery as hers. "I have a secret, Sarek. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Certainly."

"I love you. I do so illogically, irrationally - humanly. I just do," she said quietly to him.

"Emma, acknowledging the illogical, irrational, and Human nature of such sentiment does not change the truth."

"What's that?"

"I have been aware of this for quite some time."

She smiled at him and brought his hand to hers, their fingers touching briefly.

He sensed mild discomfort from her feelings – not emotionally, but physically. "Emma, do you feel unwell?"

"Not really. I don't know how to place it. I feel a wee bit funky today."

"Funky?"

"Yes, _funky_ ," she replied, emphasizing the manner in which he had pronounced the word.

"As in 'not in proper working order'?"

"Aye. It'll pass I think, but I will see T'Pola today, promise."

Her morning geared up quickly, with student appointments holding her attention until a scheduled rehearsal with her duet partner. Emma answered a call from the front security gate.

" _O'savensu_ , _kosu ya'akash dator ralash-tanaf_ ," Savel said in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes, her name is Terry Behrens. I will meet her at the front desk. Please send her through."

She walked quickly down the corridor, gave _Guernica_ a nod as she passed by, and arrived at the front desk the moment Terry stepped in the door.

"Hello," Terry said quietly. "Em, sorry I'm late. The tram got stuck in the tunnel, and there is no service for communicators in there. I got here as quickly as I could."

"Nay bother, my friend. Let's get to it, then. It's gonna be interesting I fear. I've not warmed up yet."

Moments later, a transporter beam activated outside the gates of the embassy, alerting Savel to the arrival of the ambassador's son, Spock. He walked to the security gate and presented his identification.

"Welcome, _Khart-lan_ Spock. Your presence honors us," Savel said.

Sarek approached the gate and raised his hand in the _ta'al_. " _Dif-tor heh smusma, Sa-fu_."

" _Mene sakkat ur-seveh, O'sa-mehk."_

As they walked to Sarek's office, he observed that Spock still was too thin. Amanda had always complained about that, and now he saw she was correct in her assertions.

"What of your recent experiences in space?"

"We completed a thorough scan of the Betreka nebula five weeks ago."

"Indeed? That sector has always been problematic for astronavigation."

"Our scientists discovered unexpected, naturally-occurring gravitational influences within the nebula itself. The behaviors are highly unusual, and no recorded evidence of them has been surveyed elsewhere in the known galaxy. I have the finalized report for you."

"I shall read with interest. How is the situation in the Aldebaran system?"

"The parasitic invasions originated from a cargo ship that made unscheduled deliveries. Their bio-contaminant screens were not in proper order. The infestations are receding, and it is expected that the capital cities will resume normal functioning within two weeks."

"Proper maintenance schedules would have corrected that," Sarek commented.

Emma and Terry sat in the rehearsal room and began to prepare for their practice. When they tuned together, the conversation halted as Spock turned to look in the direction of Emma's office, his eyebrows rising.

"How is this not a distraction?"

"Under normal circumstances, Emma conducts business and private lessons during the day, and practices after hours to avoid such disruption. In light of the performances this weekend and her presentation at the conference on Nisus, rehearsals have been interestingly arranged to accommodate preparatory requirements _and_ meetings with delegations."

"I saw her name on the passenger manifest for the journey to Nisus. What topic will she present?"

"She will present her discovery of two unique linguistic correlations amongst all species within the Federation that do not utilize telepathy as their main form of interpersonal communication."

"Indeed?" Spock thought silently for a moment. "That excludes only three races. What are the correlations?"

"The first being each language developed in imitation of indigenous, ambient sounds in the natural environment, and the second being each species developed its own unique spoken meter.

"Fascinating."

"Indeed. She has been able to identify these meters, composing a representative work for each primary language. These works are based upon universally recognized publications from each culture."

"I shall secure documentation for personal edification. This implies advances in research, pedagogy, diplomacy, and xenopsychoanaltics."

They listened as the pitches synchronized, which was followed by silence, and then laughter from the women.

"Come," Sarek invited. "Rehearsals are always open for observation."

They seated themselves just as Terry came to get her music. She looked at them quietly and smiled, and then excused herself, returning to the rehearsal. As she sat down, she leaned over and whispered to Emma.

"There are a couple of Vulcans at your conference table." she said, unaware that they could hear every word she said.

"I have an open rehearsal policy."

At noon, Sonek and T'Naara entered her office quietly with their drumsticks in hand and waited for her to begin their lesson. Terry and Emma were packing up and walked out of the rehearsal room into the office to find the group waiting for them.

"Terry, I will walk you out if you need."

"I'm good, thanks. I know it's 1730 hours for orbital departure Sunday, but when do we leave from here?" Terry asked.

"1600 hours."

Emma turned to Sonek and T'Naara.

"I apologize for my tardiness. Our rehearsal was unavoidably delayed. Please go inside and begin your preparatory exercises."

She turned to see Sarek and Spock sitting there waiting quietly for her.

" _Aduna_ , this is my son, Spock. This is Dr. Emma McGregor, she, who is my wife."

"Hello, Spock, I'm honored to meet you." She smiled at him, and offered the _ta'al_ to him.

"The honor is mine, _T'sai_ ," he replied.

"Please call me Emma. There is no need for unnecessary formality between us. I'd love to talk with you both, but the children's lesson is already behind schedule. May we continue after end-meal?"

"Of course," Sarek replied.

She nodded graciously to them and walked into the percussion lesson, thankful that the meeting had gone better the second time around.

As she completed her duties for the day, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, rubbing her face gently. She had a proper headache now, and decided to stop by T'Pola's office on her way home. She rapped lightly on the door frame.

" _O'hakausu_ , may I speak with you please?"

"Yes."

"I have not been feeling well the past couple of days. It could just be stress, but I prefer your medical opinion over my conjecture."

T'Pola began a medical scan. "What are your symptoms?"

"I woke up dizzy the past two days, I've had mild nausea, and now a stubborn headache. I have actually had to make myself eat for the past two days now, and appetitehas _never_ been an issue for me."

"Your temperature is slightly elevated; however, your t-cell count is normal, negating viral or bacterial infections the bloodstream. I see no indication of middle or inner ear infections. Your insulin/sugar ratios are normal. I will note these details in your medical file."

"Ok, thank you."

"I suggest taking more time for rest as you prepare for the concert Saturday and your travels to Nisus on Sunday. The ambassador asked me to prepare a copy of your medical records for your travels," she said as she handed Emma an information chip.

"They are updated and ready for you. I recommend you discuss these feelings of illness with _O'hakausu_ Sorel and Dr. Corrigan during your appointment."

She stood in the elevator and waited patiently for it to arrive at the third floor. She was thinking of what she would prepare for end-meal, when the delightful sent of _klitanta s'mun t'forati_ enticed her home. She walked into the living room and found Sarek and Spock in conversation.

/Sarek, a word please?/

"Excuse me, my son." Sarek followed her into the bedroom.

"I went to see T'Pola a few moments ago."

"Her findings?" he inquired, selecting an evening robe for her to wear.

"She says there is no indication of viral or bacterial infection, although my temperature is slightly elevated. She also gave me the chip with my medical records for the trip."

He nodded. "Your evening robes arrived this afternoon. I would find it acceptable if you were to wear this one tonight, _t'hy'la_."

He approached her with a delicate robe of the deepest forest green. Placing it on the bed, he removed her bra and then draped the robe across her shoulders and fastened it for her. "You have no need of that undergarment with this style of robe."

He reached around her waist and secured it gently at her left hip, then at her right.

"It fits you perfectly. Sovik has a remarkable gift for tailoring," he murmured softly, kissing her cheek. In the moment his lips touched her skin, he felt the full discomfort of her headache and the rise in her body temperature. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"The headache started in earnest after my lesson with the children. T'Pola has instructed me to get more rest in preparation for coming events."

He nodded, following her to the dining room, wondering what could be causing these symptoms. It brought him concern for her well-being, and he considered the possibility of disallowing her travels if her condition grew worse.


	24. Chapter 24

**An Unsatisfactory Replacement**

2295.105

Sarek and Spock sat together on the balcony after the concert, the memorial event honoring the late Ka'alte celebrated his decades of artistic service to the Federation. Spock found a heightened understanding of the innate social workings of the Andorian race, so fraught with violence and emotion, yet a substantial contributor to the advancement of mutual learning and exploration.

He considered the woman who had captured his father's heart, mind, and _katra_ , unsurprised by his father taking a second human wife. He had six decades of experience and understanding the needs and essential expectations a human female would have. He was uniquely prepared to care for her.

Emma was a curiously unique person, and having shared the past few days in intimate family detail, Spock was beginning to see why his father was enamored of her. Her physical attributes were satisfactory by average standards, and Spock knew this held the least amount of importance for his father. His mother would have said _'it's a person's character that truly counts, as the physical details fade over time, but character doesn't."_

Her intellect, insatiable need to learn, ability to empathize, and the absolute authenticity with which she carried herself around everyone: that was how his heart had been won. Sarek was engaging life with a much different mindset than the months after Amanda's passing. Spock was grateful that Sarek had finally found this personal fulfillment once again.

But still, he remained troubled by it.

"I would discuss a personal matter, _Samekh_ , and I ask forgiveness if I intrude upon your privacy," Spock paused. "I am grateful that you have found a bond-mate with whom you derive such satisfaction. I believe her to be a suitable and appropriate choice for you."

Sarek saw hesitation in his son's eyes.

"Something Mother asked of me," he paused, a tangible fear of rejection by him. It was illogical and he knew it, but that did not negate its existence.

Spock looked into his father's eyes for a long moment, but said nothing.

"You need not fear me, _safu_ ," Sarek whispered softly.

Spock chose the risk and released the concern weighing so heavily upon him. " _Sa-mekh_ , after T'Pring chose the _kali-fee_ , I elected to allow my duties and responsibilities to Starfleet to take precedence over my consideration of another wife."

An old anger slowly welled inside Sarek as the memory of that terrible time resurfaced. He thought T'Pring fortunate to live in an age when _that_ betrayal did not mean her death. To reject his son – a highly eligible and accomplished Vulcan male who would grant her the honor and respect - it was disturbing.

"Shortly after Mother's death, Soran sent me a letter from her, wherein she asked me to be supportive and encouraging when you found a new bond-mate. She said it might be difficult for me to accept, and I am only realizing the truth of this now."

This was unexpected. "Elaborate."

"Forgive me, Father," Spock looked at Sarek with troubled eyes, "but I cannot accept Emma as a replacement for my mother. I mean no disrespect."

Sarek interrupted him gently. " _Sa-fu_ , you are not disrespectful. You are responding understandably to an unorthodox situation. Emma is not, and will never be your mother, nor do I believe she would try to be. She is only my wife. I would ask you to consider the obverse of this very equation."

Spock looked at him with confusion.

"Are you aware that she was widowed ten years ago?"

"I knew she was previously married, but I did not inquire as to termination of the relationship."

"Did you know that she had a son, stillborn due to Rigellian Influenza?

"No, _Sa-mekh_."

"Emma is struggling with her place in our bond because she feels conflict between the affection she had for her late husband, and that which she has for me. I would never presume to be able to replace him in any way. Additionally, you could never replace the son she lost – and she does not expect you to try. She desires friendship with you because you are my son, and because she respects you. She has expressed this to me directly.

"She knows you both have begun a pathway that she and I have traveled for some time. I have worked with her in a professional capacity, as a student of music history under her instruction, developed a friendship, learned about and met her family – you have not yet. But that, Spock, is the issue: _not yet_."

"Father, how do I approach this concern with her?"

"Continue to acknowledge this discomfort for what it is, but find ways to engage her such that you both will learn from each other. It is the only way you will be able to determine the depth of the relationship you will share."

"Understood."

"Spock, your mother made requests of me as well. She asked me to promise not to only exist, but to live my life fully beyond her time. As I learned more about Emma's thought processes, behavior patterns, perspectives, and ethics, I realized she was a person I would prefer to cultivate friendship with, and I chose to actively pursue that alone.

"If I may, how did you discover more beyond that friendship?"

Sarek thought for a moment. "I grew cognizant of that which brought my life to a more satisfying plane. I saw what Emma was beyond her professional expertise," Sarek said softly. "Once I realized this awareness, I resolved to discern hers, and actively engage her, should that interest be mutual."

They watched as seagulls called to one another as they flew toward the bay.

"Did your mother say anything to you about your own marital status?"

Spock cast his eyes away from his father.

"I see. May I ask her thoughts?"

"In that same letter, she said that the loneliness you would experience was not healthy for me either, suggesting that I was missing irreplaceable life experiences, and that I should consider that which was around me."

Amanda was right about her – she would make a most appropriate bond-mate – if only Spock would realize it.

"My son, your mother was very wise. I cannot make you see the truth of her words – you must discover them for yourself. Consider your _life_ carefully, and you will realize her identity."

"Father, I thank you for your hospitality and counsel. I must take my leave of you."

"Understood. Consider what we have discussed today, my son."

"I shall. Peace and long life, Father."


	25. Chapter 25

**Accounting Gone Wrong**

Walking back into the kitchen, Sarek cleaned up the dishes and fed Jake, who was doing his feline best to convince Sarek that Emma had been starving him for a week.

"I am not so easily fooled," Sarek said, measuring the food into Jake's bowl. "I saw you eat quite well only this morning."

The cat chirped and purred as Sarek placed his bowl on the floor. After replacing the food in the pantry, he went to find his wife, hearing the hydroshower turn on as she began humming to herself. He listened to her through their shared marriage bond, her mind always composing.

The complexity of her mental processes was most appealing. Many nights passed when he would initiate conversation designed to stimulate deep thought and then he would just listen, just as when she worked with him one-on-one with Terran history.

He was confident she knew what he was doing, but indulged him. Nothing aroused him more physically or mentally than intelligent conversation with her. Besides, it regularly ended with a different kind of conversation later in the night. She drew him into her mind, body, and heart with the 'who' of her.

She'd clearly changed since they'd bonded in August, and even if it were only a couple of months prior, he'd noticed a profound growth in her self-perception. His mere acceptance of her uniqueness as she was, rather than in spite of it, nutured a firestorm of confidence and relaxation he'd not expected. She was growing into this new phase of her life and Sarek was fascinated by the entirety of her evolution.

Upon entering the bedroom, he found her packing completed, bags ready, and her calendar lying on the bed with the conference program and itinerary. He glanced at the schedule of presentations, and noted that she had chosen several interesting sessions such as interspecies musical education techniques, rhythmic communication across generations on Cygnus V, and neurolinguistic communication styles and management. He wished he could attend her keynote.

As he set the conference brochure back where she had placed it in the month of September, he noticed five days with tiny, red dots on them.

Where had he seen that before? They were vaguely familiar. A faint memory prompted him to then evaluate prior months, and he realized that for every previous month she had marked between four and six days with a red dot, all in consecutive order, and twenty-eight days between each instance…

Coming back to October, he realized that, by her careful recordkeeping, there should already be three, but there were none.

/May I join you?/

/I never thought you a hydro shower person, Sarek./

Normally he avoided hydro showers like Denebian Shingles, but curiosity overrode this. He undressed and stepped inside with took a liberal amount of body wash in his hands, he began washing her neck and back. While he intended a few moments of intimacy with her, he was also seeking to sense how she felt physically.

If he had interpreted the marks on her calendar properly, then he understood the cause for her feeling 'funky'.

He ran his hands gently down her neck, allowing his fingers to dwell on her skin, becoming aware of the subtle, underlying nausea she had mentioned. He stepped closer to her back and reached his arms around her waist, and began to wash her belly, and sensed surges of very specific activity in her lower abdomen.

Dare allow himself to consider the possibility? When he moved his hands higher up and began to wash her breasts she inhaled sharply, and he sensed the tenderness and pain.

"Forgive me, _t'hy'la_ , I did not intend to bring you discomfort," he whispered.

He had been very gentle, as always. After they finished their shower, he stepped out and after he dried them both, he took her by the hand to their bed. Lying down, he held her in his arms.

An hour later, they lay in the diminishing radiation of their lovemaking.

"Emma, I glanced at the bulletin, and it appears you will have an interesting conference. The sessions you have selected for attendance appear beneficial to your work. I did not mean to pry, but I saw the days you marked each month; twenty-eight days apart, four to six at a time. By your own records, you should already have three marked for the current month, correct?"

She nodded silently.

"Why are they unmarked, _k'diwa_?"


	26. Chapter 26

**First Time For Everything**

Vulcan Embassy

2295.106

1555 hours

Emma and Terry stood at the transporter pad in the embassy waiting for instruction from the specialist. Emma had beamed many times during her time working at the Mars Colony, but Terry never had, and was anxious. She glanced at the young Vulcan female behind the transporter console and leaned closer to Emma.

"Does it hurt?" she whispered.

"No, it's like the tickle before you sneeze. By the by," Emma beckoned her close to her, "Vulcans have remarkably sensitive hearing."

The color drained from Terry's face. "That is good to know," she said in a normal tone of voice, the transportation specialist keeping herself politely busy, not acknowledging the conversation.

Sarek and Soran walked into the room. As Soran initiated contact with the waiting vessel, Sarek observed his wife, wearing one of her new robes: soft brown, tailored beautifully to her body shape, their family name embroidered on the front panel.

"Vulcan Embassy to USS Intrepid II," Soran stated.

"Intrepid II, go ahead," a female voice answered.

"Two passengers and subsequent cargo are ready for transport."

"Stand by for cargo retrieval."

"Affirmative," Soran replied.

Sarek paired his fingers with hers, as the whir began and their luggage and instruments vanished.

/Emma, I await your return to me, and any news that you may bring./

"Embassy, we are ready for transport of passengers."

"Acknowledged," Soran answered, "stand by."

The transportation specialist assisted Terry to pad one, and then spoke to Emma. " _T'Sai_ , you will use pad number two."

Emma nodded to her, and Sarek released her to step onto the unit.

" _Mene sakkat ur-seveh, Adun_ ," Emma said softly, her hand raised in the Vulcan salute.

"May your journey be informative, _Aduna_."

Just as the tickling sensation started in her feet, she smiled that particular smile, and then vanished.

Emma opened her eyes to the brightly lit transporter room of the Intrepid II. She inhaled deeply, and noted the familiar odor of well-filtered, recycled air. Not much had changed since Mars.

"Wow. That was fun." Terry chuckled softly. "My hands are itchy, though."

"I thought you'd like that." Emma smiled back at her. "You'll get used to it."

A young Vulcan female approached them. " _T'Sai_? Ms. Behrens? I am Yeoman T'Yen. I am assigned to assist you during your travels aboard the Intrepid II."

" _Nemaiyo_ , your service honors us," Emma said, formally.

"The honor is mine," she said, looking at Emma briefly, reading her lapel. "We are currently on deck nineteen. Please follow me; I will show you to your quarters."

As they entered the hallway, life was busily moving around them in preparation for departure. Yeoman T'Yen directed them to the side of the corridor as three crewmen moved heavy equipment past them with anti-grav units.

"We will leave orbit in eighty-seven minutes," she explained as they continued toward the turbolift. As the doors opened, several crew stepped aside to allow them entrance. "Deck five," she instructed clearly.

A few moments later, the turbolift came to a halt and the doors opened. "Your quarters for the outbound and inbound journeys will be here: deck five, port forward, central corridor."

Emma noticed the nameplates identifying each room's occupant. They stopped in the hallway, across from Spock's quarters.

"Yeoman, are we not in guest accommodations? These are officer's quarters," Emma asked, confused.

" _T'Sai_ , Captain Spock instructed that you would occupy this suite. These are your quarters, and Mrs. Behrens, yours are immediately to the right. You each have a private bedchamber and sitting room, and share bathroom facilities. Do you require any further assistance at this time?"

"No, thank you," Emma said. She walked into her quarters, checking out her temporary digs.

A few minutes later, her door chimed. "Come."

Terry walked in, animatedly excited. "Emma, they have an observation deck! I'm gonna go watch the dock departure! Come with me?"

Terry's first trip in space was proving to be almost as much fun for Emma to watch as for Terry to experience first-hand. "You're like a kid in a candy shop. Let's go."

Walking inconspicuously down the hall, and largely ignored for all the preparations taking place, they found their way back to the turbolift. Two crewmen were waiting, and they smiled at the women.

"Can you tell us which deck the observation lounge is on?" Terry asked, excitedly.

"Is it your first trip out, ma'am?" a young Andorian male asked.

Emma piped up in response. "Her, yes; me, no."

The other crewman, a Human male, spoke up. "You can find the observation lounge on decks ten through twelve, but I personally like the view from deck eleven."

They boarded the elevator with the crewmen and were on their way.

Stepping off the lift, they thanked the young men for their assistance and walked out into the lounge, finding comfortable seating with a stellar view of the moon; it was, after all, an observation deck. Emma walked to the food service unit and ordered two cups of coffee, handing one to Terry.

"Em, thanks for inviting me. This is a journey I will never forget, I should think." She took a sip of the hot beverage. "Mmm, good coffee."

"Terry, you are the only pianist I enjoy working with. Let's toast Vivaldi, eh? I just hope that our audience understands the importance of the dialogue in the music."

Emma paused as a flush of temperature raced through her.

"Are you ok? You look a little overheated."

"I've been feeling off-kilter. It's the dizziness that bothers me more than anything. It got bad enough in the past couple of days that I thought Sarek would not allow me to go today."

Terry looked at her for a moment, incredulously. " _Allow?_ Emma, seriously? He doesn't strike me as the controlling type. Is that why he makes you walk behind him?"

"Oh – I could have said that better. Don't misunderstand, Terry; he isn't controlling of me at all. A bonded Vulcan male perceives his highest priority to be provision for and protection of his wife. She belongs to him, yes, but not in a malicious manner - they don't mistreat their wives."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it means, my friend. Regarding walking behind him, it's so he is aware of any potential threat to my safety. It is not a disparaging statement of my status in the relationship."

The ship-wide communication alert sounded, and Spock's deep voice resonated. "Attention all passengers and crew: docking clearance is granted. All hands to final departure stations."

As the ship moved silently through the solar system, Terry was engrossed at the window, overwhelmed with the view of Jupiter on the port side.


	27. Chapter 27

**Extending The Olive Branch**

Pleased with the performance of his new and very young crew, Spock released the bridge to Commander McGraw and departed for the evening. A moment later, he stepped off the turbolift at deck eleven, walking quietly into the lounge, finding the two women drinking coffee and having a rather enjoyable conversation as Saturn came into view.

Terry inhaled deeply with surprised pleasure as they passed the rings of Saturn. "Emma, it's beautiful."

"Welcome aboard," a deep, male voice said behind them.

Emma turned around to see Spock standing there quietly, in that oh-so-typical Vulcan posture: his hands held neatly behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart – looking exactly like his father.

"Has T'Yen provided you with what you need, Ms. Behrens?"

"Yes, Captain, and thank you," Terry answered.

He nodded to her. "Dr. McGregor, a word?"

They watched as Terry excused herself and left the lounge to them.

"Have you had end-meal yet?"

" _Rai_ , I have not."

He was fascinated by how even monosyllabic word could be altered by her accent.

"If you will accompany me, please," he requested.

Moments later they were seated in the officer's mess at a table for two. Yeoman T'Yen approached their table with the meal and served each of them a small bowl of _plomeek_ soup.

Emma was trying to respect the customary silence, but could not stand it any longer. "Spock? I mean no disrespect to custom, but could we forego silence for now? I'd prefer making the most of our time to tonight," she said softly.

"What would you care to discuss?"

"When I was a child, my Grandfather McIvers would mediate issues between my cousins and me with an interesting metaphor: the elephant in the room." She paused long enough to watch his right eyebrow return to its rightful place.

"You see, it had as much control as we'd allow, and we'd respond differently to it, trying to make it go away. If we ignored it, it sat down next to us. If we got angry with it, its feelings didn't get hurt. If we blamed others for letting the beast in to begin with, it was no matter; it was still there."

"Are you insinuating that a metaphysical pachyderm accompanies us?"

"Indeed, I am," she paused, trying to suppress a smile.

"Am I correct to assume you have a solution for our rubenesque metaphorical dilemma?" he asked, secretly pleased at her reaction.

She needed a moment to recover from the question. Like his father, Spock had quite a sense of humor, if one just knew how to listen.

" _Rubenesque_ …metaphorical," she began, chuckling.

"…dilemma," he finished for her.

Emma looked into his deep brown eyes for a moment, composing her response. She wished an enjoyable interaction, and to grant respect to the issues they were to discuss.

"I propose we talk through concerns about your mother, committing our very best to honor and respect each other not just because it's the right thing to do; but most importantly, we owe our honor and respect your mother and father. Sarek is the one who will bear the burden of our efforts now, for good or ill."

Spock put his spoon down carefully. "Did you know her?"

"Fairly well, I would say."

"In what capacity?"

"She was my language tutor," she said, pausing with a smile when his surprise was faster than his ability to hide it.

"Don't be surprised. I've been on the receiving end of her wrath regarding my accent on numerous occasions. In fact, she once told me I'd make a remarkable linguist if I _chose_ to overcome it, but I don't have the same love for it she did."

"Your dossier did not specify that time on Vulcan."

"She worked with me while I was at Harvard."

"How long did this continue?" he asked.

"Six years," she replied.

"The cost must have been extraordinary."

"It was. When I learned there was no 'scholarship', I did my own calculations and went to your father to repay it. He forgave the debt, and wouldn't speak of it again."

Spock mentally noted to meditate upon the compassion his father granted. Even through their reconciliation after the Babel Conference many years earlier, Spock still held lingering fear of him – a fear he could not simply release. He yearned for that same compassion.

She continued. "He said it was Amanda's desire to see me receive the instruction I needed, that it was her nature to do so, and he considered it a closed matter."

"While many sought her out, very few ever realized their fullest capability under her instruction," he said, remembering his mother tenderly.

"She had a heart for teaching, and I'll tell you that she was the best teacher I ever had, Spock - my _O'savensu_. More importantly, she was my friend."

T'Yen served _balkra_ sautéed with onions and garlic. Emma nodded thanks to her.

"Spock, I can't imagine how her death affected you. Please know: _tushah nash-veh, k'odu_."

Her willingly placing him in a higher social status than her was intentional; her true desire for a positive relationship with him.

"You honor me."

"I have profound respect for you. You know, after you called to speak to your father last week and I didn't know who you were – which was horrifying for me, by the way – Sarek told me the details of your visit, and that he'd forwarded my dossier to you."

Spock listened carefully to her.

"I asked him if he'd ever allow me the same look at you, or if I was to remain ignorant of the family I'd married into. He gave me your dossier, and showed me decades of family holopics and the scrapbooks your mother made. I think it was the first time he'd actually been in a place to address his grief openly; sixty-seven years of life experience is not easily set aside."

"No, it is not," he answered softly, a long silence hovered around them.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is there's no way I could ever replace your mother. No one in the universe could. She was too profoundly unique. I'd never attempt to assume that place in your life, particularly only through social custom and rank gained only via marriage. I wish to earn your respect and trust."

"You have already begun to do so."


	28. Chapter 28

**Make New Friends, But Keep The Old**

Sarek sat on the balcony, but not in his chair. It brought him an odd comfort to sit in hers, having just finished a meal he had not intended to consume. Two hours earlier he was reading when the com-unit chimed quietly. He answered it to find a message set on timed delivery from Emma to him.

 _Hi there_

 _I'm sending this time delayed because I'm suspicious you'll not dine alone this evening. As I much prefer your receiving proper nutrition, I'm personally requesting that you go to the stasis unit and choose any of the meals I have prepared for you. There are enough for end-meal each night, plus two. I will worry if I think you are not eating,_ my love. _I will speak with you soon._

Cleaning his dishes and preparing for bed, he found Jake had assumed a more congenial role, accompanying him everywhere he went. He then learned it was unacceptable to the cat for the bathroom door to close, excluding him from activities inside.

A black and white paw wiggled under the door frame, turned upside down, and moved the back and forth as best it could. Emma called that 'knocking to be let in', but she never gave in to the feline's demands. Sarek decided he would not yield either.

After his evening meditation, Sarek prepared a cup of tea and the com-unit chimed once again. He answered it, internally pleased to see the face of an old friend.

"Good evening, Daniel."

"Hello Sarek. How is Earth?"

"As you left it."

"That is good to know," he smiled. "I received your message asking to speak."

"I require your assistance."

"Anything, my friend."

"The Intrepid II will assume standard orbit around Nisus at approximately 1700 hours Tuesday evening. My wife is aboard. She is giving a presentation at the Linguistics Conference. If possible, she would have a medical consultation with you and _O'hakausu_ Sorel."

"Certainly – one moment," he said, stepping away from the comm.

Sarek heard the sound of several people entering Daniel's office. In the background he saw Daniel's bond-mate T'Mir and her father Sorel. He could hear them speaking together for a moment, and then Sorel joined Daniel at the com-unit.

"Sarek, it is agreeable to see you again," Sorel said.

"Sorel. Peace and long life to you."

"We will meet _T'Sai_ Emma at the transporter terminal upon her arrival. However, we ask that you allow us to host her. We will ensure her needs are accounted for."

"Your hospitality is most generous. I will communicate the alteration in her accommodations to her before her arrival."

Sorel nodded.

"There is one matter I would bring to your attention: she has not been feeling well over the past days. She visited with Healer T'Pola and the results of that visit were updated in her medical records. She will bring those to you."

Daniel chimed in. "What are her symptoms?"

"She has difficulty with her equilibrium, and her appetite has been rather diminished. She has described a subtle nausea as well."

"Have you sensed anything, Sarek?" Sorel asked directly.

"Yes. The changes are beginning. I am concerned for her physical and emotional wellbeing in this matter."

"She will have our very best efforts."

Nisus Space Terminus

2295.108

Emma and Terry stood quietly in the transport reception facility on Nisus, awaiting clearance from immigration. They exited the controlled area to find Terry's brother and sister-in-law waiting for her, and after a happy reunion and departure, Emma stood, PADD in hand, in front of the large information terminal, trying to determine exactly where she was and who she was supposed to meet.

She had no idea they were approaching, observing her.

"That has to be her," Daniel commented. "That is the reddest hair I have ever seen, and I'm Irish."

Sorel approached her. " _T'Sai_?" he asked politely.

She turned to one of the taller Vulcans she had ever seen, with eyes so dark even she could not read them. " _Ha_ , _Osu_?"

" _Sorel wimish, heh kazhuksu, O'hakausu_ Corrigan."

"I am Dr. Emma McGregor _aduna_ Sarek - please, call me Emma."

"Emma, it's a pleasure. I go by Daniel. Have you eaten yet?" Daniel asked.

After a pleasant and satisfying meal, they journeyed to Sorel's home and found his bond-mate T'Kar waiting for them.

"I regret we will be unable to attend your presentation Thursday morning. I have two scheduled surgeries," Sorel said. "I am interested in your research. Summarize."

"I've been studying the linguistic development of languages within species utilizing auditory communication, regarding rhythmic meter of spoken language, and influence of ambient sound in the native environment upon its development."

"Fascinating," T'kar said. "How many species demonstrate these characteristics?"

"Forty-four of forty-seven. They all derive sound development from their environments, and have a uniquely defined rhythmic flow. The presentation will demonstrate four of them: Terran, Vulcan, Tellarite, and Andorian."

"Interesting," Daniel said. "How will you demonstrate these commonalities?"

"Through rhythmic cadences, with the demonstrated concept of developing cognition and perception of linguistic ideas through musical reference points. We all utilize rhythm in a relatively similar manner, so I have composed these cadences based upon universally accepted literary works from each planet.

"My accompanist journeyed here with me, and we will perform a series of concerts and a master class in folk music and improvisational compositional styles. Sorel, if you and T'Kar would like to attend we have a dress rehearsal tomorrow evening," she offered.

"We will attend," T'Kar answered for them.

Daniel and T'Mir stood quietly. "Thank you for dinner, Sorel. We're headed home for the evening. Emma, see you later," he said, with a wave.

Later in the evening, Emma sat in the living room reading quietly when T'Kar approached her. "You have a call, and may take it in the study."

"Thank you," she replied with a small nod.

She walked into the study and closed the door and smiled as she saw him. "Hi."

"I trust your journey was safe?"

"Yes, very much so - I am in good hands. How has end-meal been for you?"

"Most satisfying, I am curious though. When did you have the time to prepare them?"

"Sarek, if I tell that secret, I'll lose my mystique and intrigue." She smiled at him as she teased him.

He regarded her seriously, and her smile faded away.

" _T'hy'la_ , those characteristics will remain with you always."

"You know Sarek, it's a tragedy we aren't sharing the same pillow tonight." She cleared her throat and willed thosethoughts out of her mind, continuing. "How is life with your new roommate?"

"He is rather demanding in the evenings, but essentially easy to get along with. I awoke this morning to find him asleep on my chest. He looks for you, as do I. I have become accustomed to your presence."


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: This chapter is a paltry attempt to make fun of seemingly invasive questions in a medical appointment...**

 **It Only Takes Once**

Nisus Medical Complex

2295.1011

Her presentation was received well, amid very strong skepticism from Tellarites in the audience. She found the conference to be an overall success both as a presenter and an attendee, and received requests for a reprisal performance later Thursday evening.

It was encouraging to find many conference attendees at the encore, particularly the Tellarite delegation. Their disbelief in her research was loudly proclaimed at the keynote presentation, but when the concert time came, they were seated near the front, completely focused on the music.

An open session after the concert invited audience members to bring instruments and join in a spontaneous, group concert sharing the comfort music of their culture. Emma found it enlightening when the delegation from Tellar Prime shared the music closest to their hearts.

 _Mission accomplished, MacGregor…_

Now, as she made her way through the medical complex, she found herself both afraid and excited by what would come from her appointment. She finally arrived at a desk manned, or in this case 'womanned', by a Deltan female.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, please. I have an appointment with Healer Sorel and Dr. Corrigan, in five minutes."

"Your name?"

"McGregor, Emma."

"Hmm," she crooned in soothing Deltan tones, "are you certain it is today?"

"Yes ma'am, quite certain. My husband made the appointment for me. Could you look for it under the name 'Sarek', please? I would hate to think I traveled from Earth for nothing," Emma said with a chuckle.

"Yes, that would be a disappointment. Ah, it is listed under Emma McGregor Sarek. Please proceed to the last door on the right."

Emma nodded and found Daniel's office. She was about to push the call button when the door opened, with him coming through it.

"Ah, Emma, there you are. We were about to come look for you. Come on in."

"My apologies. Your gatekeeper takes her job seriously," she quipped.

"Etreya is an _excellent_ gatekeeper," Daniel smiled.

"Listen, we are gonna do a full physical this morning, run tests, that sort of thing. There's a gown on the table. Get yourself changed, and the push the call button when you're ready."

After undressing and putting on the universally uninteresting medical gown, she pushed the button. Sorel was followed by T'Kar and Daniel. She handed her medical chip to Sorel and he promptly downloaded her information into the medical system.

Daniel ran a full body scan evaluating her physical health. "Let's see, six foot two, 185 pounds, with a body mass of 23.7. Excellent. Two healed fractures - how'd those happen?"

"During an incident at Mars Colony while I worked in emergency services. Both arms at the same time, too. Some called it unfortunate, but I called it the Jackpot," she smiled.

Daniel laughed heartily. "Optimism will serve you well during this process. If we are successful, you've got a lot of work to do each day and on a tight schedule," he paused as the program calculated bone density and skeletal measurements. "You've got the best hip structure I think I've ever seen. It'll make giving birth a lot easier."

As they reviewed her medical history for any and every issue that might present difficulties for a pregnancy, a flurry of what she considered _very_ personal questions ensued from Sorel. She answered them, despite her deep-seated modesty being more wounded by each, knowing in her rational mind that he was working to ensure the healthiest environment for pregnancy, but she still resented them.

What was the date of her last menstrual cycle?... What was the duration?... Flow?... Cramping?... Nausea?... Temperature?... Emotional disposition?... Was her menstrual history reliable?... Were they sexually active yet?... Before or after bonding?... What was the initial frequency of intercourse?... Had she experienced pain or difficulty during?... After?... How often were they actively pursuing conception?... Daily?... Multiple times per day?... Had they utilized any contraception?... How much time in between each encounter?... What was the duration of each encounter?... What physical positions had they utilized?... Did she require reproductive instruction before returning to Earth?... Had she encountered allergic reactions?... Did she experience any nausea before, during or after intercourse?... Was her appetite normal afterward?... Did she experience any unusual sensations?... Rashes?... Itching?... Burning?…

At one point, she sarcastically contemplated inviting him to watch, but decided against it, realizing he might accept simply for the sake of scientific observation. The enlightening moment of revenge for Emma (in her mind) came during the pelvic exam, when Sorel strongly questioned the causation of 'a very pronounced, round bruise on the inner right thigh, near the pelvis'.

Knowing _exactly_ how it got there, she tried to ignore the question altogether, and Daniel shook his head quietly as Sorel persisted with questioning. He knew how it got there - he'd given a T'Mir a few himself - but Sorel had evidently never encountered a hickey, and continued seeking further enlightenment.

" _O'hakausu_ ," she said respectfully, "perhaps you'll find the answer with my husband, as I'm quite certain I didn't do that to myself."

Daniel placed his forehead in his hand, struggling to stifle laughter as his eyes traveled from the scanner to Sorel's face. While it remained impassive, the tips of his ears turned dark green, and he quickly moved on the next battery of tests.

As they awaited lab results, she spoke up. "Dr. Corrigan, may I make a suggestion?"

"Always."

"You really should put a list of conversation topics on the ceiling so your patients have something to think about while in a compromising position… some sort of distraction."

Before Daniel could reply smartly, Sorel returned with the results of the morning's work.

"No preliminary preparation is necessary at this time. You have successfully conceived," he said matter-of-factly, handing her the results. "I have verified successful implantation of the blastocyst in the uterine lining, here."

He pulled up the scan that showed a little nugget snuggled up right where it should be. For the first time in her adult life, she did not know what to say. In her mind, part of her knew it was true: her cycle never happened, and the symptoms were classic.

"Wow, what are the odds?" she wondered, half to herself.

"Considering known attempts: 4,863,915 to one. However, it only takes once. T'Kar is preparing the dietary supplements you must take each day per schedule, _without fail_. The fetus will require hormones not readily offered by your body. Before your departure tomorrow, we will meet once more to discuss what we must do over the term of this pregnancy to give the fetus the best possible chance for survival."

She nodded slowly and turned to Daniel who sat with his hands in his lap. "You ok?" he asked her gently.

"Yeah, I just," she slowed to a stop mid-sentence, thinking.

"What do you need right now?" Daniel asked, patting her arm.

"Sarek."

"I'll get him, ok? Sit tight."

A few moments later, he walked in, activated the monitor at the desk, and then went to her.

"He is waiting to talk to you. Take the time you need. I'll be in Sorel's office when you're done."

Once the door closed, she sat down in front of the monitor.

" _Aduna_? Are Thee well?" Sarek asked, growing concerned by her silence.

A thousand different thoughts were flying through her mind at once, like leaves in a gust of wind, but she could not focus on one of them. She looked into the screen, wishing she could have his arms around her.

"I came here to find out what we needed to make a child, and apparently we already did," she said, smiling, but her seriousness betrayed her.

He saw a vulnerability she had not revealed before. Although he regretted not being there, he was satisfied with the discovery.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel confused," she said quite frankly.

"Then start with each feeling, one at a time," he suggested.

"I am overjoyed…terrified…curious…afraid…a little irritated…nervous…inspired. Someone is growing inside of me right now, and it's amazing. What are you thinking?"

"I am concerned for your well-being, and that of our child; nevertheless, I feel profound satisfaction. It pleases me to give myself to you in the creation of our child. _Nemaiyo, aduna t'nash-veh_."

"I need to come home."

"Monday will arrive in due time. Listen carefully to all you are advised to do, Emma. Heed their guidance. There are none more experienced in this, _Th'y'la_."

He watched her signal fade to an empty screen. He sat in her favorite chair, thinking of the care and precautions that would need to be taken. Another child – a gift he did not expect again in his lifetime.

She would require heightened observation and care, and as the ony medical team truly qualified to handle her needs was on Nisus, it appeared he would not see her for quite some time. That was unacceptable. Long-dormant protective urges began to rise from deep within, and he chose to enter a period of meditation, seeking a preemptive solution.


	30. Chapter 30

**Negotiation**

Emma sat in the garden behind Sorel's home, thinking about everything that had transpired. Her appointment had redefined a reality for her: that she would have to spend a great deal of time on Nisus for the care the tiny fetus to ensure its development. She knew it was a necessity, but it was a near-certainty that she would never see her father alive again. She leaned forward and rubbed her temples slowly.

T'Kar observed her in the garden. " _Adun_ , Emma appears unwell."

"She must remain here for an extended period of time. Daniel suggests it is discouraging for her."

Before she could respond, the com-unit rang softly.

"Sarek, peace and long life to you," Sorel greeted.

"And you, my old friend. Regarding my wife and the child she carries," Sarek requested "what are your instructions?"

"We have begun to administer bio-chemical treatment to encourage proper development of the blastocyst. Emma will require monitoring and bio-scans every twelve hours, her dietary needs must be evaluated on a daily basis, as the strain of fetal development upon her body may cause her metabolism to de-stabilize. Additionally, we must ensure that she is able to maintain a suitable uterine environment for the next seven months, the earliest the child can survive a premature delivery, if that were to occur. Provided the fetus survives that threshold and her health does not deteriorate, these requirements will be re-evaluated and adjusted appropriately. She simply cannot be left in the hands of an obstetrician with no knowledge of the complexities of this situation. Emma must remain here on Nisus for six months. She is a welcomed addition in our home."

Sarek was known throughout the Federation as a gifted negotiator. It was time to put those skills into action. "I would ask you to consider an alternative. I am aware of the medical necessity of the supervision; however, I would request a different location for its provision. I would request your services at the embassy as Emma's physician. I will compensate you well and ensure your needs are met. I realize that you are established in your practice on Nisus, but I ask you to consider this alternative for additional reasons."

"Elucidate."

"Her father was diagnosed with an aggressive, resistant form of brain cancer. He has been treated at the Vulcan Science Academy unsuccessfully," Sarek replied.

Sorel's left eyebrow rose into his hair. "Indeed? What is the prognosis?"

"Between four and six months. During his last days, he will likely not be himself. Emma wishes to share this remaining time with him. If she remains on Nisus, I believe she will not see him alive again. Humans deal with death and grief very differently than we, and I have concern that the stress of that experience will pose a hazard to her health through the later stages of this pregnancy," he said.

Sorel paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Agreed. I will accompany her to Earth."

" _Nemaiyo_ , Sorel. I will speak with my wife," Sarek requested.

A moment later, she appeared in the doorway and saw him waiting for her. A surge of sadness welled up, but she was determined to speak with him anyway. "I assume you spoke with Sorel about our meeting this morning?"

"Yes. However, the arrangements have changed, _Aduna_. Sorel has agreed to a temporary posting with us at the embassy as your physician. He will monitor the pregnancy, perform necessary procedures, assist at your delivery, and see to our child's recovery afterward. T'Pola will support him in these matters."

"But what about his family - his patients here? I cannot allow this, Sarek; it's a massive interruption. To be very honest, the needs of this one do not outweigh the needs of the many here."

" _Aduna_ , you are one of his patients, and he is prepared to walk each step of this experience with us. Daniel and the other physicians will absorb the patients he normally treats, and he will return to them at the appropriate time. He is very concerned with your health and safety. For my people, a child is a priceless treasure. Life must be preserved," he replied.

T'Kar stood silently in the doorway of the bedroom watching her _adun_ pack.

"I have known Sarek all of my life. His very request honors me. T'Mir and Daniel will be here to assist you, _k'diwa_. I will return to thee."


	31. Chapter 31

**The Key Is Flexibility**

Life was returning to normal at the embassy – as much as it could.

Emma rose each morning, Sorel visiting her before breakfast for a medical scan that input hundreds of bits of data into an enormous matrix of information that guided his every choice in her treatment. This exercise was repeated again twelve hours later, and with meticulous, unwavering attention to detail. Initially embarrassed for him to see her right out of bed, she realized that not even Sorel was impervious to her bed head. She began to relish each morning's visit, even though he never said anything about it. With Sorel a most convenient target, it was the only way she could fight back against a situation that left her feeling miserably ill and out of control.

Their first week back had been the most difficult, as this was the most serious stage of embryonic growth: brain development. Sarek and Emma sat in consultation with Sorel, assisted by T'Pola. Sorel was detailing the reasoning for a necessary procedure that would be dangerous for her, requiring extened time under general anesthesia.

"Emma, this procedure is necessary to ensure the embryo's cranial development is accurate," he activated a view screen showing a real-time view the tiny cluster of cells, busily at work.

She watched the images: they sat still, as if thinking, and then would tremble and divide, only to repeat this again and again.

/Look at that, so very busy,/ she smiled inwardly.

Sarek was remarkably silent and serious, only touching his fingers to hers. She felt his concern.

"With Spock's embryonic development, our understanding of this was not as refined – he was the first, and developed without difficulty, but some subsequent children have experienced life-threatening concerns. My attention is focused on five specific areas."

"Educate us." Sarek requested.

"As you wish. The ectoderm, neural plate, and neural tube have all formed correctly. This image shows the primary cranial vesicles, with all three structures nearly completed: the prosenchephalon here, mesencephalon here, and rhombencephalon nearly complete, here. My concern lies with development of the secondary cranial vesicles, and their resulting brain function."

Sorel then changed the screen to a series showing what was developing next. "Five structures will begin forming soon, and they reflect the first areas of concern regarding organ development for a Vulcan/Human hybrid. The telencephalon forms basal nuclei for the cerebral cortex. The diencephalon is the precursor for retinal development, as well as thalamus and hypothalamus.

"The mesencephalon will continue development, with success resulting in the midbrain, as well as superior and inferior celliculi. This is stage crucial to the embryo's survival. If we fail to properly support this particular development, it is all for naught. The fourth structure of concern is the mentencephalon, which will become the pons cerebellum. The final is the myencephalon, which forms the medulla."

"Ok. What will the procedure require, and when do you wish to begin?" she asked, undaunted.

"The procedure may require as many as 30 hours. The actual duration is dependent upon time required for each structure to form. They may do so simultaneously, but the probability of that is low. While a longer duration under anesthesia is not preferred, it is my preference to risk that extended duration in exchange for focusing attention on one structure at a time. T'Pola will monitor your involuntary function, and has highly qualified experience with patients under prolonged anesthesia," Sorel paused, thoughtfully. "We begin when you are prepared."

Over twenty-six hours, Sorel performed a continuous manipulation of subtle chemical levels, introduction of amino acid chains, and modification of protein complexes while the cells divided, and then divided again. Each essential element was completed, one at a time. Long years of experience helped Sorel understood the manner in which Sarek conducted his role as The Protector, and did not protest when he insisted upon sitting with her unconscious form through the entire procedure, refusing food or rest until she was out of danger.

She recovered from it quickly, but was not pleased with the two-week bed rest that followed it. Sarek had proven a formidable opponent when she tried to rationalize her way out of bed for anything that wasn't an absolute necessity – which she did try. Lying around all day was not her idea of a good time, and she grew quick to express her frustrations with him.


	32. Chapter 32

**Frustration**

2295.1016

"I just want to sit on the balcony, for the love of God," she snapped.

"Would you choose action with the potential to harm our child?" he asked.

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think? I am just tired of lying down all day, doing nothing. If I have to do this for the duration of the pregnancy, you may very well want to sever this bond, 'cause I don't think I'll make the best company."

For the first time in their relationship, she saw tangible hurt glance across his face, and then disappear behind a stony wall as his feelings over their bond shut down. After a controlled breath, he spoke quietly.

"I would not sever our bond simply because you were understandably disagreeable for a time. It would take much more to encourage my departure from you. I am quite certain you are not capable of such cruelty. I must meditate."

He then turned and departed the room as she lay in their bed and wept, feeling isolated, frustrated, and uncharacteristically mean. She wished she could rewind what just happened and articulate her anger differently, but it was too late for that.

He returned at noon with mid-meal finding her soundly asleep, surrounded by used tissues. Setting the tray down, he gently touched her cheek and sensed how sick she felt, knowing if she were able to eat the meal, she would likely not be able to keep it down for long. Sorel entered the apartment to find Sarek watching her sleep. Seeing the mess of used tissues around her, he decided to inquire.

"Is she still feeling ill? "

"Quite," Sarek answered. "I have sensed over our bond that she does not understand why she is experiencing such intense symptoms. Her first pregnancy was not like this. She has articulated it as 'delightful'."

"Indeed?" Sorel remarked. "The necessary hormones create an entirely different experience. Has she demonstrated any unusual interactive behaviors?"

"Affirmative," Sarek answered dryly, to be addressed by one raised eyebrow.

"My friend, remember that her body is in upheaval, and this is challenging for her. All data suggests that this will improve over time," Sorel said quietly, and then left them alone.

He nodded at his friend's encouragement and began to clean up the aftermath of her weeping. As he reached over her belly for one last stray tissue, she stirred and opened her eyes to find him there, wastebasket in one hand, yucky tissue in the other.

" _T'hy'la_ ," he whispered, quickly disposing of the discarded tissue.

She looked at him and then away again. "I regret this morning."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the wastebasket on the floor. He held her hand in his, and remained quiet as she scooted over to him for a hug.

"Please forgive me. I wouldn't ever want to sever our bond," she said, tears starting again.

"The cause is sufficient," he said as kissed her ear gently. "I have brought mid-meal."


	33. Chapter 33

**Namesake**

2295.1124

"Blobby is beautiful!"

Sarek wondering why she felt compelled to give their child nonsense names. He knew her sense of humor _was_ beginning to return, and he chose to accept the names for what they were. 'Blobby' was Emma's response to the first detailed scans of their tiny embryo. She decided it looked like a blob, hence the name.

Now proceeding through the ninth week of her pregnancy and having fewer bouts of illness, Sarek was relieved to regain his wife. He stood next to her, scrutinizing the scans of the tiny creature.

Sorel completed calculations and made adjustments to the treatment matrix.

"The fetus is approximately two centimeters in length – the size of a table grape."

Sarek immediately recognized the look on her face: she was thinking of a new name.

"Vinnie…Blobby shall be known as Vinnie," she exclaimed with glee.

They waiting for the ensuing explanation as each right eyebrow rose in nearly palpable anticipation.

"Oh, this one's easy…grapes…wine…vino…Vinnie," she scoffed, smiling at them both.

Sorel turned and entered more data into the computer. "Most illogical."

"I beg to differ, _O'hakausu_. It makes perfect sense," she smiled.


	34. Chapter 34

Tomato Sandwiches

2295.1219

The week had been long, wrought with stress.

Sarek's work on the Verellian treaty – all four years of it – had evidently been for naught. When it came time to sign the peace accord, the ambassador of Verellian III decided to insult the ambassador from Verellian IV, and he subsequently walked out of the meeting.

Undaunted, Sarek worked tirelessly for three days to negotiate an alternative, and it was finally coming to a resolution. While he certainly preferred to negotiate in a calm and rational manner, sometimes alternatives were necessary. As he sat in the common dining hall eating mid-meal with Emma, she chatted about what was happening with her students.

"T'Naara has completed her part of the composition for the concert in May, and Savel has agreed to play the _kolchak_ with us. I did not know he was such an accomplished flute player. Also, Sulok has begun teaching me to play the _vluhn_ ," she said with a satisfied smile.

"Indeed? He has not taken students for several years. I think you will find that quite a challenge," he paused, "for a while, at least."

He touched his fingers to hers, and she became aware of the elevation of his stress level. She knew he was not completely engaged in the conversation, and that was unusual. She decided to change the subject.

"Sarek, can you talk about it?" she asked, concerned.

"The Verellian Treaty negotiations failed on Monday because one party is apparently unable to think before he speaks; his bigotry flows to all around him, unedited, unchecked. The other party walked away from the signing ceremony."

"That is unfortunate. You've worked a long time to resolve the conflict. It sounds like the first party needs a reminder of their purpose. I think they may have forgotten their responsibilities."

She stopped to take another bite of what seemed to her to be the _best_ tomato sandwich she had ever eaten.

"This is a wonderful sandwich," she said with her mouth full.

Sarek noted that every tomato sandwich in the past week had earned that title. "I was unaware of your appreciation for them. It has revealed itself in recent days."

"Have I eaten a lot of them?" she asked, mid-chew.

"Eight in the past five days, not including this one," he replied. "However, both Sorel and I agree it is better for you to eat them than to be unable to eat anything. It pleases me that your appetite has returned, _aduna._ We are concerned with your weight loss."

"Well, if I keep on these for a while, you will have to worry about my weight for another reason. Wait a minute," she paused and looked at him pointedly, "you keep track of what I'm eating?"

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Emma, your nutritional needs must be met fully."

"Hmm," she replied. "So, back to the treaty, I know what I would want to do if I were in your position."

"That would be?" he asked.

Her methods of problem-solving were very Human: irrational, illogical, and quite often successful.

"Speak with the offender privately and call him out. I mean, even I know about the numbers of citizens killed in the decades of that conflict. I might just ask him why he is there to sabotage the efforts for peace.

"I think I'd need an explanation of why it is more profitable for him to not comply. Think about it: it's candid, personal, and to the point," she answered, beginning to work on a small salad, wishing it was another sandwich.


	35. Chapter 35

**The Good Of The Many**

He sat in his office, eyes closed, his hands steepled in front of him, waiting for the appointment time to arrive. A knock on the door brought him out of a meditative trance, drawing his eyes to Soran.

"The ambassador from Verellian III is here, sir."

Sarek stood by his conference table and gestured to the chair when Ambassador Fol'vin entered the room. He waited until the very moment Fol'vin began to fidget in his chair as his long tail was sweeping slowly across the floor behind him. Sarek then gently pushed a PADD across the table. "Access this, Ambassador."

Fol'vin reached out with a scaled, three-fingered hand and opened what he recognized to be intelligence photographs of Verellian IV, immediately following a raiding sortie. He looked at each of the images – brutal documentation of the atrocities of war. He paused at the last one. It was all that remained of a school building, razed to the ground. Scattered carelessly about were the cruelly damaged bodies of more than one hundred children - no survivors, no prisoners – clearly butchered where they stood. They were innocents, not trained soldiers. Fol'vin's snake-like eyes flickered and re-opened, his gaze fixed upon the picture.

Sarek watched his pupils dilate slightly, and then spoke quietly. "Do you have any children, Ambassador?"

"Yes. Three sons and a daughter," he replied, the universal translator effortlessly converting his own language to Standard. "They are all grown, except my daughter. She is fourteen." He continued to look at the dead children, as his tail fell still.

"Are they on Verellian III?"

"No," Fol'vin answered. "My sons are working in a colonization effort of Verellian V. My daughter attends her schooling off-planet. It is safer that way."

"How fortunate you are able to provide that luxury," Sarek answered. "What is her name?"

A moment passed as his eyes remained upon the photo. "Ghil'aan. She is a delightful child, creative and gentle."

"Any more so than the children you have yet to look away from?"

Fol'vin finally set his gaze upon Sarek. "When did this happen? I know of all activities authorized within our military. This is unfamiliar to me, and most certainly the handiwork of my military."

"This took place eleven hours ago. I am compelled to ask you a question." Sarek paused, choosing his words carefully. "Why did you attend the ceremony Monday?"

"To sign the agreement."

"How did taunting Ambassador Veled serve peace? How did that reflect upon those who selected you to represent them?

Fol'vin looked at Sarek quietly. "Your point being?"

"How many thousands have perished in the decades of battle between your peoples? How many children lay slaughtered? How many women enslaved and violated? Are you willing to assign another generation into such simply because you cannot hold your tongue for a personal moment of bigotry that passes through your mind? Those children would be alive at this very moment had you possessed any self-restraint. You stand to gain or lose everything depending upon the success or failure of this treaty. I will return to my wife, and we shall continue to prepare for the birth of our child. Each day, I will conduct my government's business, but in all things, I will not have the blood of innocent children to account for. If we have nothing further to discuss, I will attend to other obligations. Peace to you, Ambassador."

Without waiting for a response, Sarek stood and walked out of his office, retreating to the meditation chamber.

Fol'vin sat quietly for a moment, and then went to Soran. "I would use a com-unit," he said.

After a short and direct message to his military commanders ordering a cessation of hostilities, he dialed another com-code, waiting for her. His daughter appeared on the monitor.

"Daddy!"

"Ghil'aan. How are you?" he asked gently.

"I am fine. Mother says you will be home for the Forefather's Day Celebration," she exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes," he replied.

"I can't wait to see you. I made something for you." She held up a small, intricately carved wooden vase in the monitor for him to see. "Do you like it?"

"I will proudly display it to those who visit me," he said, realizing those children would never talk to their parents again. "Ghil'aan, I have a request of you."

"Anything," she replied.

As he observed her, he could see she had the look of her mother. He wondered how many of those children had that same tendency. "I ask your forgiveness…"

After the call to his daughter had ended, Fol'vin placed a call to Veled of Verellian IV, who regarded him suspiciously.

"Have you come up with more ways to question the legitimacy of my mother's hatching? Perhaps you would like a shot at me from behind? Or would you like coordinates to another schoolyard?" Veled hissed angrily, his voice elevating beyond control. Honestly Fol'vin, this is a new low, even for you. You murdered one hundred seven children!"

"Veled, I authorized a reconnaissance operation, not a raid. I have already ordered our armies to stand down. My ancestors will hold me accountable for the deaths of those children. I formally request that we resume negotiations for peace. I will sign the treaty today if you wish it. This violence will not continue."

"You are serious? No tricks, no games?"

"No games, no tricks. I swear it," Fol'vin replied.

"On what will you swear such that I can believe your words?" Veled asked skeptically.

"My daughter's life, for it shall be preserved to the loss of my own."


	36. Chapter 36

**Prepare Yourself**

The com-unit chimed, and, answering it, he found Murron smiling at him. "Murron. It is agreeable to see you again."

"You also," she smiled at the courtesy. "Ken asked me to confirm that you will arrive at the shuttle pad tomorrow afternoon at 1600 hours."

"Affirmative."

"He will be waiting for you. Sarek, on another matter, I need to let you know that Will's health is declining. He has lost a lot of weight", she paused momentarily, "and we are beginning to see the effects of the tumor."

"Elucidate."

"He is sleeping more, and he is also having difficulties with spatial coordination. We ate dinner with them tonight, and I watched him trying to open the door at the restaurant." She sighed, her eyes welling. "He kept trying to grasp the doorknob, but he could not reach it. Anna had to guide his hand to actually make contact with it."

Sarek listened silently, contemplating Anna's preservation of dignity.

"He is having severe headaches now, too. He won't ask for medication – he is too stubborn. Emma's going to know as soon as she is near him. Sarek, try to prepare her for this. It's going to be a shock. We're more accustomed to it, we see him each day."

Ken joined Murron at the unit and offered a poorly performed _ta'al_ to Sarek in greeting.

"I don't think I'll ever get that right, it's the effort that counts," he smiled. "Congratulations on the Verellian Treaty. Whatever you said to old Fol'vin must have been pretty important. He has always been a hard one to work with, very unpredictable.

"Most kind. I would speak on another matter with you both. Regarding Jenny – has she chosen a university yet?" he asked.

"Not yet. She doesn't feel she's found the right fit," Ken answered.

"I have a solution I would ask you to consider," he paused, approaching the topic carefully. "After our conversation regarding her desire to study astrophysics, I made an inquiry on her academic performance, and contacted a colleague at the Vulcan Science Academy.

"After speaking with him about her situation, I forwarded her academic record to him. After careful evaluation, he has confirmed a place for her in the Astrophysics program to begin next year."

Ken and Murron just looked at one another and then back to him.

"I assure you only relevant information was submitted to the committee," he said.

"Committee?" Murron asked, her eyebrows rising. "What committee?"

"The special admissions committee is comprised of instructors and administrators at the science academy who evaluate the applications of non-Vulcan students. They recommended she be admitted, with reservation," he replied.

"On what grounds?" Ken asked.

"Her inability to communicate in _Vulkahnsu_. They will accept her in next year's class, if she begins intensive language study immediately. While Standard is spoken in nearly all classrooms, it is highly advisable that she undertake a study of the language. As her advocate, it will become my responsibility to ensure she does so, should she decide to attend."

"Sarek, this is quite generous and I want the best for her, but we must consider a place to live, expenses, not to mention she will be on a planet far, far away from us."

"I have anticipated the variables that would affect the family's decision. I would ask you to allow her to come to San Francisco with us. I will ensure her needs and safety are provided for. This will allow her to begin her language studies in an immersive environment, and start preparatory coursework for the academy.

"Although exact plans are not made yet, Emma and I will return to Vulcan late summer, upon completion of the first phase of the Interchange Directive. Jenny is welcome in our home. I ask that we discuss the possibility further during our visit," he finished.

Returning to the living room to find her asleep, he knelt down by the sofa to untangle her nightgown from the cushions. He rested his hand gently on her abdomen, and a tiny presence brushed his consciousness for a moment, only primal sensations and concepts moving by very slowly, one at a time.

… _warm …safe …move…_

When she opened her eyes, she found him kneeling next to her, his hand over their baby, and his gaze fixed intently at it. Both eyebrows disappeared slowly into his hair, and she thought she saw a smile forming.

"Find something?" she asked in quiet amusement.

His gaze never leaving her stomach, he nodded and whispered. "Emma, do you sense it?"

 _/_ Emma – listen carefully…do you hear it? _/_

She focused her mind and then it happened: the most basic concepts and actions reverberated across the meld.

… _hear…sounds…stretch…listen…curious…_

/Sarek, is that…? _/_ she asked, realizing the beauty of the interaction.

/Yes./

Sarek projected a sense of paternal protection across the meld, gently soothing the listening mind of the infant.

… _Deep Sound…safe…secure…_

 _/_ Emma, try _./_

… _stretch…listen…curious_

She projected pure, maternal affection, enveloping the essence of the child.

… _Soft Sound…wanted…sleep…_

Sarek gently removed his hands from her and sat back on the floor, decidedly pleased with what had taken place. It was the first true smile she had ever seen on his face. She sat up and reached her hand to his.

"That just happened, didn't it?" she asked.

" _Ha,_ it did."

"I know we decided to not learn the baby's gender, but I think I would like to know. After that, I can't not know, and please forgive the double negative," she smiled.

"We shall inquire in the morning."


	37. Chapter 37

**No More Silly Names**

2295.1220

0530 hours

Emma yawned, snuggled down deep in their bedding. She was warm and did not want to wake up. Moments later, the door chime rang. She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but knew Sorel would be coming in any minute to do their usual morning scans and checks. She heard them talking softly, and had nearly convinced herself to rise when Sarek entered the room and approached her.

"Good morning, _aduna_. Sorel is prepared to perform the imaging scan at the medical center. We will depart when you are ready."

After a short breakfast they walked to the medical unit. They all watched the screen carefully as the image of the fetus began to form. Not only would they know the gender of their child, they would have a clear look at fetal development. Each scanning sequence created a new layer of the image, and as Sorel began to manipulate it, it came clearly into focus.

/Look what we did,/ she thought with unrestrained joy.

/Indeed, _K'diwa_./

Sorel continued working, refining the images of the tiny creature growing inside her womb. Moving the focus up to the infant's face, details came into sharp focus: a very familiar nose, slanted eyebrows - ears with delicate tips. The tiny infant moved frequently through the procedure. Sorel completed the scans and began compiling data. After a few moments, he turned to them and waited for their attention to finally leave the monitor.

"The fetus has a much higher level of activity _in utero_ than expected; however, in a Vulcan fetus this is a very high indicator of exceptional athletic capabilities, accurate to within 99.76%. The scan reveals normal development at the end of nineteen weeks: four point five inches in length, three ounces in weight, and the gender is male," Sorel said.

"Emma, will the name change again?" Sorel requested, in what could _almost_ be misinterpreted as a teasing manner.

"My curiosity has also been aroused," Sarek added.

"There won't be any more," she replied, looking only at the face of her son on the monitor.

She touched the image on the screen gently and smiled, " _Sa-fu t'nash-veh_."

As his aides were making final preparations for their departure to Skye, Sarek suggested a walk in the embassy gardens and found a bench by the fountain and sat together, fingers paired.

"I know of the Vulcan custom of selecting a name for a male that begins with the letter 's', and personally, I would like to adhere to that tradition."

"I find myself considering something Sorel said at the end of the appointment this morning, regarding the activity level of the child," he said.

"What is that, Sarek?"

"I experienced two unusual dreams in the first days of our bonding, Emma. They were both regarding children, one specifically about a boy, unusually active, so much so that we placed him in physical training at the age of three to encourage the development of his ability to control his physical behavior."

She looked at him and spoke. "Why didn't you tell me of this previously?"

"There was no logical reason to do so. They were only dreams, a manifestation of my unconscious mind."

"I was thinking," she paused, "I have a feeling that Day is not going to live to meet his grandson. I would like very much to introduce them while he is still lucid. Ma has kept me updated on his condition, and he is deteriorating quickly."

"Yes. Murron spoke to me about it last night. You must prepare yourself for what awaits you today." He turned and looked at her directly. "Know with all certainty that I am with thee in this. You will not endure this alone, my wife."


	38. Chapter 38

**Home For The Holidays**

All weather reports indicated normal winter weather in the Hebrides, and Emma knew that meant one all-important thing: snow! As beautiful as the land was in summer, nothing could subdue her love for winter, with its profound cold intense gales, and spontaneous blizzards erupting under only the most specific conditions. Of all these the comfort she found in the familiarity of them, the most soothing was the sound of snowfall in early morning hours.

As a child, she would lie silently in her room at night and long after her parents had fallen into deep sleep, she would leave the warmth of her bed and her window, steeling herself against the biting cold as it stung her skin. The moonlight was always brighter cast against a blanket of new-fallen snow, giving an eerie pale-blue reflection to the environment. She made herself endure it as long as possible, realizing that it brought her mind to a heightened awareness of all things around her: the owl roosting in the tree only feet from her room, the rabbit moving silently across the yard, red deer passing by a dormant garden - the echoes of her ancestors in the homeland set aside and preserved for her to experience, and call her own. All was silent in these times; everyone around her was sleeping, missing the beauty she treasured, but that was ok with her. It remained hers alone, something to be jealously guarded and possessed in her mind.

Sarek sat quietly next to her in the shuttlecraft, listening to the memories she was openly broadcasting in her mind. He found himself highly curious when she would fall into memory as such; she was invariably unaware that the memories were communicated to him across the bond, and he found it to be an illuminating way to learn more about her.

The vivid imagery was always fresh and hyper-detailed. He understood that, too. How many evenings had he sat upon his balcony at the embassy and thought of the Sas-a-Shar desert, remembering the welcomed comfort of home? Gently, he touched his fingers to hers as Soran piloted across Greenland, preparing to alter their flight plans in order to avoid a rather troublesome storm brewing over Ireland. Exchanging a long glance, they both the focused upon Sorel, engrossed in a PADD Emma had given him regarding the cultural history of the Hebrides. For all the work he'd performed on behalf of her and the baby she carried, she felt the very least she could do was help him to see a few of the beautiful places her world had to offer. As much as she was grateful he had agreed to the posting with her at the embassy, she still felt a strong pang of guilt for his extended absence from his bond-mate.

/Sarek, he won't be offended, will he?/

/Sorel and I are age mates, we grew up together. I know him well. He shall be surprised, but not offended. He is devoted to his duties as healer, and the circumstances warrant his attending you presently. I am certain he will be most grateful of the arrangements you have made, _aduna_./

She smiled as she thought about the conversation she had with Sorel in preparation for his first visit to a climate with such aggressive cold…

…"O'hakausu _, a moment please?"_

" _Yes. How are you feeling?"_

" _Much better in fact, thanks. I realize that you're quite capable of preparing yourself for the trip to Scotland, but I wanted to ensure that you had enough information about the climate," she began._

" _Elaborate."_

" _We are going to be there at the beginning of winter. It's going to be very cold. In recent years, the temperatures have been as low as minus ten degrees Celsius, and the wind can gust in excess of thirty miles per hour. It's not uncommon for heavy mist to settle in on the landscape, and in certain conditions, blizzards can land fast and hard. But that is not the issue that concerns me for you and Sarek, though."_

" _And that is?" he asked._

" _It's the ambient humidity. The snow is very wet, and I am concerned that it can be chilling to your bodies very quickly – much faster than to us."_

" _Recommendations?"_

" _Heavy boots, thicker tunics, and your heaviest robes, to start. One thing my country is known for is cold weather clothing. One product we export a great deal of is Angora. It is the hair of rabbits woven into scarves, gloves, sweaters, things of that nature. I'll provide those for you upon arrival. It would not be unusual to sleep in socks, as well._

" _Also, bear in mind that my family's home is very old, and has been renovated each generation to accommodate energy demands and the like, but that does not change the fact that it is an old house. As such, you will please inform us if the ambient environment is unacceptable, ok?"…_

Soran's voice drew her mind back to the present. She eagerly made her way to a viewing portal to take in her homeland once more.

"We are entering the approach line. We will land in Kyleakin fourteen point six one seconds ahead of scheduled arrival."

Sorel looked upon the impressive scene before him: the Duirinis Peninsula, accompanied by the Cuillin mountain range, its black-brown soil and rock covered in a thick layer of pure white. It reminded him of Mount Seleya, with their mass formed by the violence of ancient volcanoes.

Ken McLeod stood in the cold, bundled tightly in his plaid and shivered, watching the shuttle craft land. He looked at his chronometer, and noted they were early. Deciding he could not damn them for their punctuality, he walked toward the landing zone. Sarek stepped out of the craft first, surveying the immediate vicinity very carefully, and then nodding to Emma to disembark. Sorel followed behind and Soran finally exited setting the luggage on the ground.

"Sarek, welcome home. It's good to see you again"

"Ken, peace and long life to you," Sarek replied.

"Emma darling, welcome home," he said, observing her robes. "Those are lovely. You have been missed, lass."

"Uncle, please allow me to introduce you to our guest, Healer Sorel. _O'hakausu_ , this is my uncle, Dr. Kenneth McLeod."

"Dr. McLeod, I am honored. I thank you for your hospitality, and request you address me as Sorel," he said quietly.

"Welcome to Skye. Please call me Ken. There is a storm coming across from Ireland tonight, so we ought to head home now. It'll be here very soon."

Stepping out of the flitter, Emma stopped to look at the house again. No matter how often she went away, it always welcomed her back. Approaching the door, she could smell supper cooking. Walking into the living room, she stopped to observe her father asleep in his favorite recliner by the fireplace, his face was gaunt, reflecting a sudden weight loss. He was wrapped in a large duvet, snoring softly. She walked over and knelt beside him, gently holding his hand and smiling as he awoke.

"Hi, Da."

"You're a sight for sore eyes, love. How long ya been here?" he asked softly

"We only just arrived."

Sarek and Sorel entered the house, pausing to observe her interactions with her father. Sorel whispered to Sarek in their native tongue."Sarek – _rai muhl ish-veh_."

"Indeed; he has declined greatly since August."


	39. Chapter 39

**Reunited**

The McLeod women came in from the kitchen, greetings were exchanged, and introductions made. Sorel stood quietly watching the family together in the living room. He thought of his _aduna_ , and wished she were there with him. It was unsatisfying that they could not be together, but his responsibilities to Emma would take precedence in the interim. For all the laughter and conversation, he did not hear the figure walk up behind him.

/ _Adun_ , will you not greet your wife?/ she asked, her blue eyes revealing what she would not express aloud.

He turned and looked at her, pairing their fingers together and relishing in the physical resurgence of their bond with one another. /T'Kar! How is it possible? Why did you not tell me of your arrival?/

/It was intended to be a surprise. Emma made it possible for me to journey to Earth and share this time with you. She feels a burden of what I have determined to be guilt for our parting./

/We are never parted, _K'diwa_./

After dinner, everyone sat together in the living room around a roaring fire. After a long discussion about the presentation on Nisus, conversation turned from one subject to another, and then fell upon the controversy of the Verellian Treaty.

"Sarek, can you tell us what happened that made Fol'vin agree to the cease-fire? I know you have worked intensively with them for several years now. Many tried before you. What happened on Monday anyway?" Ken asked.

"Monday's ceremony was halted by Fol'vin's inability to censure his own personal opinions regarding Veled's legitimate conception and birth."

"Are you telling us that he called him a bastard at the table to sign a peace accord?" Will asked incredulously.

"I believe it was 'ignorant bastard'. Parental integrity is a vital social component on Verellian III, especially regarding the maternal lines. Veled tried to ignore the taunting, but it was continuous, and he felt it necessary to depart the negotiations lest he himself contribute to the inappropriateness of the situation."

Anna spoke. "How sad that neither of them could sit together for even a few minutes, even at the cost of the thousands who have died in the hostilities. You would think personal opinions could be set aside for the betterment of their people," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Tell them of your meeting with Fol'vin on Thursay afternoon," Emma encouraged.

"He agreed to meet with me in a private session, and I chose a rather unorthodox approach," he paused. "Wednesday evening several squadrons of Fol'vin's military conducted what he termed a 'reconnaissance mission'. It was a raid, and one of the places they attacked was a school.

"The people of Verellian III board their children in school units within their communities and the whole social construct teaches them. The soldiers demolished the building the children lived in, herded them into the playground, and slaughtered them. The youngest was six years."

"How many, Sarek?" Murron asked.

"One hundred seven," he replied frankly, as a disturbed silence fell over the room.

"Forgive me," she said drying her eyes, "but that is more than I can handle. Honestly, what kind of person murders a child?" she asked.

"A person in possession of an unstable mind, _T'Sai_ ," Sorel answered.

Sarek and T'Kar looked at him for a moment. The Humans had no way of knowing the suffering Sorel had endured as his first bond-mate T'Zan's presence had been so callously stolen from him.

Sarek continued. "I secured intelligence holopics of the raid and present them to Fol'vin in the meeting. The images of the children were the last in the series, and I then asked if he had any children of his own. I learned that they are all off world because he deemed it safer for them.

"What I found most disconcerting was that he was unaware of the raid. They have committed acts of espionage against one another for the duration of the conflict, but he did not authorize the raids."

"Wait, how could he not have known? He is the high commander," Ken said skeptically.

"I will say one thing in Fol'vins defense here: he may be a bigot, but he is not a liar," Will responded.

Sarek continued. "I learned that he has a fourteen-year-old daughter, and spoke about her for a moment. I then asked him to consider why he would be willing to commit another generation of innocent people to such a life.

"I only know that he made three calls from the embassy: one to his military commanders, one to his daughter, and one to Veled. He then informed us of his intention to sign the accord without further delay."

Late evening saw the temperatures drop quickly, rain becoming snow. Emma worked quietly in the kitchen to finish cleaning from dinner and was singing softly to herself, not hearing Sorel enter the room, and she startled abruptly when a rather large hand reached beside her for a dishtowel to help dry the remaining cookware.

"I don't know what it is about you men, but you all walk so quietly," she chuckled as her heart rate returned to normal.

"Forgive me. I only intend to assist," he paused, "and to thank you."

They studied one another for a moment.

"It's not necessary," she said gently as she handed him a casserole dish. "Look, all I know is that neither Sarek nor I expected this so quickly. But for you to be away from your wife and family so long, let alone your practice. I'm sincerely relieved that you didn't feel it an invasion of your privacy," she said, smiling at him. "I come to serve as well."


	40. Chapter 40

**What's In A Name**

After a cup of tea, Emma made her way up the stairs to her room. Stepping into darkness, she closed the door quietly and listened for a moment, hearing nothing more than Sarek's breathing. She made her way to their bed and undressed, sliding in behind him gently and spooned with him, draping her right arm around his waist. His hand settled over hers.

"Your thoughtfulness made quite an impression upon him," he said quietly after a moment's silence. "He will always perform his duties well, but this assignment has been challenging. It was most gratifying to see them reunited this evening."

"Yes, it was, they're a lovely couple," she said, kissing the tip of his ear tenderly.

He turned to face her, tracing her jaw line. His fingers lingered along her psi points, and he allowed himself a moment to stay there, the connection surging momentarily. She could feel his desire for her building.

" _Tahluk nash-veh,_ Sarek, _k'diwa t'nash-veh_ ," she said quietly, kissing the tip of his nose, her hand finding his. She matched their first and second fingers together, and began to caress his with hers.

Closing his eyes as she gently traced her fingertips along his, a wave of pleasure slowly moving through his body, his breathing deepened, pulse rising. Moments later, his hands roamed freely across her body, touching here, tickling gently there...his knee nudged gently between hers…lips met…teeth nipped… possession… _katras_ entwined…

Afterward they lay in silence, her body resting on his. She looked at his face illuminated by the light of the full moon, even brighter for the blanket of white that now lay outside. When she shivered in the coolness of the room, he covered them both securely in the down-filled duvet. "Sarek, I was thinking about names today after you told me of your dream, and I remembered a name that describes that boy well. It's a Gaelic name for a male…s-c-e-o-l-a-n, pronounced 'skey-lahn', meaning 'fleet of foot'.

"Is there a word in _Vulkahnsu_ that phonetically sounds like that or means something? I ask because it starts with an 's', and it would seem to be a fitting title for a little boy who cannot be still. But I would not want to consider it were there to be a derogatory connotation or idiomatic reference associated with it."

For a moment, he wondered if she was teasing him, but then realized she would not know of what she was referencing. It was an obscure detail from Surak's day that was not in the historical reference texts available to the Federation, simply because it was minutia.

"I am unaware of negative connotations. How much pre- and mid-reform Vulcan history you have studied?"

"Not enough. At least not beyond what was necessary for my doctoral studies. Why?"

"Do you know of the _skladasular-sahran_?" he asked.

"No, what is that?"

"Not 'what', rather 'who'. As Surak's philosophy became widespread prior to his death, he would travel to communities to discuss his ideas. Interest came from those who sought peace, and those who did not, and they would often attempt to interfere with the distribution of his ideas to rural populations.

"To combat this interference, messengers were sent out ahead to the villages and communities he was visiting. For safety, they were always male, and all had a propensity for athletic abilities, being able to endure harsh desert exposure, and run for hours, or even days without tiring. Much like the runners in Marathon of ancient Greece, they would travel great distances to convey highly valuable and sensitive information.

"These young men were known as _skladasular-sahran_ , and after generations, their name had been abbreviated as many other phrases were, resulting in the modern name of _sk'l'an_ , spelled s-k-l-a-n."

A long silence hung between them.

"Hmm, I was unaware of that," she answered. "Interesting correlation, don't you think?"

"Yes, quite. Emma, I find the name most appropriate," he said. "I suggest insertion of the letter 'e' between the 'k' and 'l'…s-k-e-l-a-n."

"Then his name shall be Skelan."


	41. Chapter 41

**Merry Christmas, Da**

Early in the morning hours Sarek rolled over chilled and awoke when he could not find her to share warmth. Feeling the wind blow through the room, he realized the window was open, and he saw her naked body silhouetted against the moon. Rising quietly, he approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her gently, their naked bodies shivering in the cold. He found it uncomfortable, but fascinating.

"Is this as it was in your childhood?"

"How did you know about that?"

"When you are considering a memory it comes to me across our bond. I respect your privacy and normally ignore it, but when this one came yesterday, I found it to be intriguing. I ask your forgiveness," he said quietly.

"There is no offense. In fact, I should be the one asking for it after projecting random thoughts like that," she answered sweetly, holding his arms tightly.

Sorel's eyes opened to see her sleeping form next to his, pleased to have her there with him. He had missed her, and much preferred togetherness.

/Agreed, _ha'tha ti'lu_ ,/ she thought, opening her eyes and turning toward him.

As they enjoyed peaceful, time together, they listened to the McLeod kitchen; laughter, conversation in a native language they could not understand, and all the sounds of Human family life.

Emma and her mother were preparing breakfast together, chatting away in Gaelic. Once the coffee was brewing and bread dough rising, Emma started to clean and cut fruit and tomatoes, and inadvertently dropped a large bowl on the floor. "Emma, do you think you can be any louder? Bang the pans together, maybe you will wake the dead!" Anna laughed out loud.

"I could if I tried, believe me," she answered returning to Standard as Sarek entered the room.

"Would you like tea this morning?" Anna asked.

"Yes," he answered, PADD in hand. "Emma, I will speak with you."

She followed him into the living room, a smile on her face. He turned to her and spoke softly.

"I have the medical scans from yesterday morning stored on this device. I prefer to speak with your mother and father about this in the privacy of immediate family first."

"As you wish. I - " She was interrupted by her father coming down the stairs slowly.

"Prefer to speak with immediate family about what?" Will asked as he hugged her.

"No time like the present, I suppose," she said, taking her father by the arm and looking at Sarek directly.

"For what?" Anna asked, looking concerned as she came out of the kitchen. "Bread is baking, what is it?"

The four of them sat together in the living room and she handed her father the PADD. She watched silently as he accessed the file and began to observe the scan, completely fixed upon the forming image. Anna covered her mouth as the baby's face came into focus, its nose twitching slightly, eyebrows rising and falling gently.

" _O'sa-mekh_ , your grandson," Sarek answered respectfully.

"Merry Christmas, Da."

"My grandson," he began.

"He is a busy little thing, isn't he?" Anna asked watching the baby move almost constantly.

"Well, that is the other thing we wanted to tell you - his name," Emma said. "I remembered the Gaelic 'Sceolan'," she paused as they both nodded.

"Well, we were discussing that and then Sarek told me of something in Vulcan's history. Tell them," she encouraged.

"During Surak's attempt to bring reason to the people, messengers would be dispatched to villages and communities that he intended to visit. These young men were known for exemplary athletic ability, often running for ten to twelve hours at a time. They were called _skladasular-sahran_ , or 'fast messengers'.

"One issue that has been discovered with our child is he exhibits prenatal behaviors that are accepted as profound indicators of athletically inclined Vulcan children, specifically, the excessive body movements _in utero_.

"The modern term for these men was shortened over time to _sk'l'an_. It shares essentially the same pronunciation in your language as it does mine, and to ease in its interpretation, we have agreed upon 'Skelan'."

"Skelan," Will said, turning the name across his tongue. "It is quite fitting."

"Indeed it is," Anna said, wiping the tears from her own eyes. "What an unexpected blessing."

Sorel and T'Kar stood quietly at the top of the stairs, not wishing to interrupt this moment for Sarek and Emma's family. They joined them in the living room as Will and Anna began to review the scan again, asking questions, pointing out resemblances, and celebrate the gift of another child offered to Clan McLeod. After all, it was simply a matter of perspective.

Sorel observed the family's interactions with one another, recognizing the immutable truth of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. He began to consider his future on Nisus, his life with T'Kar – Daniel and T'Mir. He thought of his own son, Soton, and began to seriously consider the value of being so far away from that which was of such great value: his own grandchildren.


	42. Chapter 42

**Truth Will(iam) Out**

2295.1221

Emma stood by the door waiting patiently as the women were preparing to leave. A trip to the market was needed to prepare for the family's traditional holiday gathering. They had learned that even Daniel had managed to acquire shore leave and would be with them as well; the family would be whole again. T'Kar approached Emma with curiosity as she chuckled to herself. Anna and Murron could be heard negotiating the grocery list while Jenny kept encouraging them to talk about it in the flitter so as not to be any later than they already were.

"Something amuses you, Emma?" T'Kar asked.

"We always do this. It can't just be that we get in the flitter and go," she said quietly. "I love my family."

"The eccentricities of families make them a treasure. Thank you for sharing yours with us."

Emma nodded. "It is our honor to have you with us."

"I have lived on Nisus for many years, raised my daughter there, but even in the midst of the unique diversity of that environment, I am continually intrigued by the very existence of Humans. You are complex, complicated, and often seemingly irrational, but as I continue to learn about your people, I find you to be a most agreeable and adaptable species," she said.

The McLeod Maelstrom had moved from the kitchen and was winding through the living room as the men just watched it go by. As goodbyes were exchanged, Emma looked at Sarek, smiling widely.

/See what you married into?/

The men watched the flitter rise and depart, Emma having commandeered the driver's seat whilst the market negotiations continued.

"I've said before, and I'll say again," Will said softly. "I love those women."

"Gentlemen, _that_ is a fabulous disaster. May they return to us safely," Ken said with a smile.

"Agreed," Sorel answered.

An unusual quiet hung in the living room as Ken surveyed Sarek. "Sarek, a question?"

"Yes?"

"How long did you and Emma know you had a wee one coming?"

"We were suspicious of the circumstances in early October, and it was confirmed during her visit to Nisus," Sarek replied.

"May I ask why you waited so long to tell us?" Ken continued.

"By mutual decision. The very early stages of embryonic development were tenuous. Very careful medical adjustments were required to ensure that his organs developed correctly. Given that and the loss of her first child, the uncertainty of those first weeks, and Will's own illness, we determined it would be more appropriate to wait," Sarek replied.

"I see," Ken replied. "Well, it is a wonderful thing to know there will be a baby in this family again. It's been a long time since we've had a little one. I am looking forward to meeting him."

Will began to cough aggressively, and then finally quieted, his face reddened as he was massaged his temples. Sorel opened his medical kit and approached him, running a scan. As he did so, he observed Will's eyes, and noticed that his left pupil was not adjusting to the amount of light in the room; it was set in one position. He looked at him for a moment.

"Will, how long have you been experiencing loss of vision in your left eye?" Sorel asked pointedly.

"Little brother, why did you not say something?" Ken asked, rather abruptly.

"I didn't wish to cause a stir. Anna's already worried enough, and Emma does not need the stress," Will replied.

"Damn your pride," Ken said in frustration. "How can you do that? Anna'll be with ye to the end of this, and you know it. Emma is a grown woman, and strong one at that. How can you deny help from those who care for you the most? Will, you know the responsibilities I'll bear at your death. The least you can do is allow us the privilege of caring for you while you're still with us. You make it really tough to keep promises sometimes."

Ken walked out of the room through the kitchen, the back door closing aggressively. Hearing the kicking of a large metal pail, and the utterances of what they assumed were Gaelic expletives outside, the Vulcans looked at each other or a moment.

Sarek rose. "I will speak with Ken."

Sorel nodded and continued to evaluate Will's medical needs.

Walking outside found Ken sitting in the garden under the familiar oak tree, its leaves shed for winter, his shoulders trembling as he sobbed. Sarek approached him gently.

"I am sorry for that back in there," he said, "I should have spoken to him privately and not embarrassed him or the two of you with that."

"There is no offense."

"He is my baby brother. It's not supposed to be this way. It never was, but after Da died everything changed."

"Explain."

"Sarek, when we were teens, our father was killed in a fishing accident; and being the oldest, it fell upon me to provide for my family. I did it- it was my duty. I made sure that my mother and brother had enough to eat; that we had what we needed to survive, that he could marry Anna, and I even chose to forgo my birthright to our ancestral home so they would have a place to raise their family. Then mum died a few years later, and it fell on me again."

"What fell upon you?"

"The responsibilities of ceremony and centering the family afterward, it's a tremendous duty. I understood that it was my obligation with our parents. They created us, she bore us, and they both raised us well. It's only right to honor them by doing so, but I never thought I would be burying my little brother. He is my best friend, I have known him all his life, and he is so stubborn. When he doesn't want to do something, he won't do it. I can't imagine what he is going through, but when he won't let me help him, he makes me so angry sometimes."

"It is both illogical and unnecessary to endure these experiences alone," Sarek answered.

He looked at Sarek for a long moment and finally spoke. "You don't mind?"

Sorel continued the medical scan as Will sat in silence. "It is illogical to refuse assistance at this time."

"I don't want any more medication, besides, it's not gonna change anything," he replied, clearly unaware of who he was debating.

"That is correct. You will die, and soon. However, it will lessen the discomfort you will experience as you approach your death. It will reduce the emotional burden your family carries as they support you through it. Suffering discomfort for the sake of pride is irrational. There is no logical reason for you to not have relief."

Will asked, uncertain he really wanted to hear the answer. "What does the scan show?"

Sorel paused momentarily, seeing the fear in the man's face, and then answered. "The tumors have increased in size by eleven percent. The largest of them has put pressure on your optic nerve, resulting in the blindness in your left eye. Additionally, your renal system is declining," Sorel answered.

"That doesn't sound good."

"I encourage you take the time available to you and share your thoughts and feelings with your family. Many people through the galaxy are not afforded such an opportunity," Sorel said quietly as he rose.

"Sorel, may I have something to help with this headache? It's hurtin' fairly bad now."

Sorel prepared a hypo, "Take this time to rest."

As Sorel administered the medication, relief visibly washed over Will's face.

As he walked up the stairs, Sorel thought of what Will's _aduna_ would suffer when his death came to him. As he knelt and prepared to begin his meditation, T'Kar resonated clearly in his mind. As profound as his mental disciplines were, she always knew when he was troubled.

/ _T'hy'la_ , what concerns thee?/

/ _K'diwa._ I would share this with you once you return. I must meditate at this time./


	43. Chapter 43

**It Comes To Us All**

Arriving home, Emma saw Sorel sitting on the front porch. Closer inspection revealed he was in his heaviest robes and looked rather chilled. As she helped her mother and aunt get the groceries from the flitter, he approached T'Kar and paired their fingers together. Trying not to be too obvious and stare, Emma noted the touch lingered for a long moment, and then ceased.

He quietly approached Anna and asked to speak with her. "After you left for the market this morning, Will complained about the severity of the headache he has been experiencing in recent days. Before I administered pain relief, I completed a scan of his brain tissue."

"What were the results?"

"The tumors have grown by eleven percent compared to his most recent doctor's visit. However, there is a new complication you must be aware of: he has lost sight in his left eye. Additionally, his renal system is not performing to normal standards. I am concerned that the amount of time he has is diminishing."

Anna looked into his dark black-brown eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in very slowly before she spoke. "Are you telling me this so I can prepare for it?"

"Yes."

"How long?" she asked, quietly.

Sarek and Emma stepped out onto the porch when she sensed a wave of anxiety from her mother.

"Providing the rate of tumor growth and decline of his body systems remains constant, which is unlikely, two to three days."

Emma walked up to her mother and put her arm around her shoulder.

"And if the growth and decline are faster than projected?"

Sorel looked directly at her. "In that event, he has less than thirty-six hours."

"Well," Anna said with resolution, "I promised to see him through this. We need to get dinner started, and he's not too far gone to peel potatoes."

She walked inside determined to keep her promise. Sarek looked at Emma, surveying her expression to guide his understanding of her thoughts – they were remotely accessible over their bond.

/I'm gonna call the chief and request a gathering tonight. Day would enjoy that./

After an enjoyable supper of hearty vegetable stew, the comm-unit chimed. Will answered to find Leathan waiting for him.

"Good evening, sir."

"Hello, Will. A gathering has been called for tonight at the pub. Will you join us?"

"I'd like that."

He returned to the family room to find them all waiting quietly.

"The chief calls for a gathering this night, and I, for one, would very much like to go," he said with the inklings of a smile.

Anna spoke softly as she picked up his plaid and wrapped his shoulders tightly. "Then we shall go."

While the family prepared to leave, Emma briefed Sorel and T'Kar as to exactly what a 'gathering' was.

"Essentially, as many as are able will meet at the pub. There will dancing, singing, drinking, and socializing. It's actually quite enjoyable."

"Emma, you will consume neither ethanol nor synthahol at this time," Sorel instructed firmly as he donned his outer robe.

"Understood."

Arriving at the pub, they found the gathering in full swing; the air filled with laughter, conversation, and music. Emma watched her mother as she straightened Will's plaid and adjusted his collar slightly. He offered Anna his left arm and she accepted his offer as her escort, clandestinely guiding his hand to the doorknob. Although the appearance of Vulcans gave the patrons momentary pause, it then vanished as they were welcomed heartily into the gathering and guided to a table set aside for the family. Emma went to the bar and spoke with the barkeep.

"David, how are ya?"

"I'm well, Emma. You've brought more I see," he answered with a smile. "What can I get ya? Stout or whiskey tonight?"

"Nae, I'm not in the mood for that this evening. Could you boil some tea for me?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Have you gone soft? I just tapped the keg this evening."

"How about that tea? We'll take it at the table with four cups," she said, handing him the packet of _theris-masu_. She turned to look at the clan goings-on, seeing friends and extended relatives moving through the social experiences they would recollect for years to come.

She realized that she and Sarek would soon begin preparations to establish their household on Vulcan, and suddenly the noisy environment she had learned to tune out became a treasure, with its loudly broadcast thoughts, unrealized emotional projections - the people that she called her own. The thought of leaving this behind for a new home brought an intense sadness upon her – a preemptory homesickness.

Sarek had sensed a change in mood from her, recognizing these feelings, although they had come from Amanda many years past…

… _Amanda Grayson - newly_ aduna _Sarek, sat in the embassy gardens with a handkerchief as her left thumb rubbed the beautiful golden ring that now adorned her left hand. She carefully wiped her eyes, and just when she thought the worst of it was over, the tears came again. She felt so conflicted – in love with her husband and seriously questioning her judgment at the same time._

 _The whole thing started when she began to think about the first Christmas she would spend on Vulcan, and then she realized there would be no Christmas on Vulcan…that led to no one she knew on Vulcan except for Sarek. While she loved him dearly, she was not sure how she felt about all of the people and places familiar to her being stripped away by her own hand. 'What was I thinking?' she wondered._

 _Then she thought of the one thing she did have: a very new and interesting marriage to a brilliant and insightful creature. While he did not say 'I love you' directly, everything in his actions said it for him. She relished in the memories of their relationship as it was newly formed, and how challenging some aspects of his mannerisms had been to adjust to, such as his seeming inability to appreciate the value of a well-timed joke. But even in those moments, she had begun to see the very privately guarded side of Sarek's persona, the one not ever shown to others, only to her - to his_ aduna.

 _He had realized the importance of sharing parts of that persona with her, as it helped her to know he was in fact much more than a 'CPU with feet', as a carelessly-speaking aide had been heard describing him once during a visit at the embassy of Tellar Prime._ _It showed her that his thought processes and reasoning were well-motivated, with her very best interest in mind; that interest being set in place to ensure that she would receive the nurturing care she needed and he would receive fulfillment of the life-saving promise she had made to him._

 _Sarek realized the importance of sharing what she would term 'his humanity', simply because she was his chosen wife, his_ k'diwa _. It came to him in his meditations that if she were to adjust to life comfortably in Vulcan, as the wife of a Vulcan, and perhaps the mother of his children, that she must be able to understand all of him. She thrived upon those opportunities to earn his trust with such confidence._ _So, as he approached her in the gardens, he relaxed his tightly maintained controls for a moment of private conversation with her, knowing she would sense his vulnerability and treasure it rather than exploit and humiliate him._

" _Amanda, you are upset. Why?' he asked, sitting next to her, touching his fingers to hers._

" _I didn't mean to interrupt your work, sweetheart. I am sorry," she said quietly as the tears began again._

" _You are never an interruption,_ aduna _. What concerns thee?"_

 _Tears were a confusion to him: both a waste of precious hydration and physical energy; nonetheless, he recognized the significance of her despair as she did not cry often._ _She blinked for a moment, and then began to sob._

 _"I don't know anyone there. What was I thinking? I've just agreed to go to a place where I will be light years away from my family. Was this a mistake? Not us, I mean this decision to go to Vulcan?"_

"K'diwa _, while I cannot speak for your logic in choosing me, I can and will speak for my own in the matter. I chose you, I cherish you, and I am grateful that you will reside with me on my home world. The change will be a great challenge for you in ways you cannot imagine; however, I am confident you will succeed," he said softly._

" _How can you be so sure?"_

" _Because, Amanda, if I thought for one moment that you would fail in anything we will experience together, I would have chosen another. I am satisfied in you, my wife…"_

Sarek found Emma watching her family, friends, and clansmen. He realized as she looked at each of them, she was remembering details of how she knew them, amusing tidbits, moments of pride and character.

/What are you thinking about?/

/How much I shall miss this place and these people. Take Hamish – when we were eight years old, he fell out of a tree and broke his leg. He decided to show off how could walk without the crutches the doctor had given him, and promptly fell, breaking his arm in the process./

/That was unwise./

/That is Hamish for you, though, but a heart of gold. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you needed. Or David, the bartender: he went to school with my father and uncle. He is the reason that Mr. Buchanan gave us the _sgain dubh_. David has no interest in the maintenance of traditions, and that is a shame, too./

/You now each of them intimately./

/Yes, Sarek, I do, and I will miss them terribly. But the issue is not the choice to leave,/ Emma answered.

/What is the issue?/ Sarek asked, curiosity piqued.

/The uncertainty of what is to come in the next days. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be here with him tonight./

She sighed quietly, and then smiled as David returned from the kitchen with the tea, finding her still at the bar.

"Here ya go, Emma. Hello, Sarek."

/Let us enjoy this evening with him while that is possible for us all, _aduna_./


	44. Chapter 44

**Someone Get The Lights**

It was late when the dishes were finally done, the vegetable peelings placed in the composting pile, and the lights were turned off. Emma walked silently back in from the garden shed and stopped for a moment to consider the evening. Her father had an opportunity to share time with his clansmen, seeing some for the first time in many years. How ironic it was that it would be his last. She wiped her boots off and set them inside the utility room door, and as she hung the coat upon the hook, she felt an odd sensation sweep her body aggressively - a nausea that she could not place. She braced herself against the doorframe as it grew into profound discomfort, bringing her to her knees.

Sarek sat in their bed reading a PADD on the architectural traditions of the island when the strangest sensation moved through his body. He set the PADD down and checked his body systems in his mind, finding them each in order when it swept over him once again. He sat quietly and waited, nearly blinded by another wave of pain and nausea that swept through his body. Then he heard her.

/Sarek?/

/ _Aduna_ , are you unwell?/

/Check on da, please./

Just as he was reaching out to knock on Sorel and T'Kar's bedroom door, it opened, Sorel emerging with his med-kit in hand.

"Emma's monitor indicates she is in severe distress. Where is she, Sarek?"

"I am right here - it's my father," Emma said as she came up the stairs.

As she reached them in the hallway, Anna came out of her bedroom.

"Sorel, would you please come look in on him? He was talking to me and then just stopped, mid-sentence. I don't know what's happening to him," Anna said with fear in her eyes.

They entered the room to find Will sitting in his chair, barely conscious. Sorel approached him gently and began to run a scan. "Will, how do you feel?"

"Gladly, my headache is finally gone," he smiled weakly. "Would you please turn the light on?"

They each looked at him, and then to one another, they were on. Sorel waved his hand in front of Will's face seeing no recognition of movement. Sorel and Sarek helped him to stand and walk to his bed. Once Will was resting comfortably, Sorel spoke with them.

"Your renal system has ceased function, and no medical intervention will reverse this. Other physiological systems will continue for a short while, but they, too, are failing."

Sarek left to make a call and as he entered the code, he thought of all that would come to them in the following days. Ken answered. "It is time to begin the vigil."

Ken took a deep breath, and nodded solemnly. "We will be there shortly."

Anna sat with her husband talking quietly with him, as they remembered times long past. She held his hand with hers, gently running her fingers along his as they continued to talk.

"It was always you, Anna. I didn't deserve you though."

"But that's just it, Will, you didn't have to. I fell headfirst with you because of who you were. All I know is that I am so grateful for the time we were given. All the best moments in my life had you at the heart of them, and I thank you for that."…

 _June 2253_

 _Sitting in the Federation History class was not sixteen-year-old Anna McIvers' favorite activity. She would much have preferred to be tending her garden, but as her mother would have no less than her very best, Anna continued to listen to the lecture presentation. As if the material was not boring enough to her, there was the complication of that_ obnoxious _McLeod boy sitting behind her._

 _"Psst. Anna - hey," he said, trying to get her attention._

 _"Shut it, will ya? You'll get us in trouble now," she quietly snapped back at him._

 _The instructor cleared his throat in disapproval. "_ Miss _McIvers, quiet please."_

 _The 'miss' had the kind of emphasis that let everyone know that such disruption was equivalent to treason, and she had just been formally charged._

 _"Aye sir, excuse me," she said softly, lowering her eyes in embarrassment._

 _The trick to messing around in class was to not get caught, and she had just given everyone an object lesson in failure. A note found itself being pushed over her shoulder, falling into her lap, accompanied by a light kicking of her chair. She opened it and clandestinely read the message:_

 _'Will you go to the games with me tomorrow night?'_

 _Rather than expose herself to the wrath of her instructor again, she scribbled an emphatic reply:_

 _'Not if it my life depended on it.'_

 _After managing to toss it back at the exact moment the lecturer's back was turned, she smiled with a distinct satisfaction. Maybe now the hooligan would leave her alone. After all, no teenage boy could handle a sixth brutal rebuff. It was just too big a blow the male ego, especially if that ego belonged to Will McLeod._

 _Wrong._

 _Another note fell over her shoulder:_

 _'You can be as mean to me as you want, Anna Catherine, but it won't work.'_

 _She scoffed in disgust as he chuckled behind her. He was persistent, and beginning to annoy her. She wrote a rather nasty note to his brother, and once again, sent it sailing through the air, this time past David Buchanan's head, hitting Ken McLeod in the side of the face._

 _'You can tell your brother to piss off, Ken. I won't date him. I won't - and you leave my sister alone while you're at it. You boys are just disgusting.'_

 _Ken smiled when he read it, and nodded graciously to her..._


	45. Chapter 45

**The Leine Bhois**

Emma sat quietly in the flitter as Sarek drove them to the city of Portree to initiate one of many tasks required of the next hours. Stopping in front of an ancient home, and as they approached the front door. She knocked three times and they waited. A light came on and they heard the sound of footfall padding quietly down the stairs. The door was opened by an older woman both confused to see Sarek and surprised to see Emma.

"Come in out of the cold, the both of you," she said.

"Thank you, Mrs. MacGinnis. My husband, Sarek," Emma said respectfully.

"Hello," she paused. "Emma, it's late."

"Yes ma'am, I've come to ask you to make the _leine bhois_ for Da, please."

The 'death shirt' was specifically made near the time of death, and was the final garment the decedent wore. Emma held the fabric her mother had chosen close for a moment, and then offered it to Ailis.

"I wish it not necessary, but I'll begin immediately. Ieuan and I'll deliver it on the morrow, dear."

Will held Anna in his arms and they continued to talk, delving into memories, approaching things left unsaid for many years.

"Ann, thank you for Emma. She is so much like you it's uncanny," he said, falling silent as he thought about his child.

"When I look at her, think about her mannerisms, she is a clone of you in so many ways. Those eyes, especially," Anna replied.

"Would you do something for me, love?" He asked.

"Anything."

"Is that PADD around here still? I would like to record a message to Skelan. It bothers me that I'll not know him."

She looked at him for a short moment and then rose to retrieve the device. After she brought it to him, she left him in privacy to compose a letter to his grandson. Stepping quietly through the hall, she walked down the stairs to find Ken and Sorel sitting in the living room talking quietly next to roaring fire.

Ken paused momentarily and looked at her expectantly. "You ok, Anna?"

"Aye," she replied. "Have Sarek and Emma returned yet?"

"Not yet. Will you come and sit? I will bring you a cup of tea if you like," he offered.

She stood for a moment and looked at Ken, thinking of the sacrifices he'd made for her and Will in the past.

"No, thanks, Ken. I need a breath of fresh air actually. You gentlemen stay warm," she answered as she donned her coat and scarf, and then stepped outside quietly.

T'Kar and Jenny had been talking about the prospect of her attending the Vulcan Science Academy when they were both distracted by the sight of Anna walking through a dormant garden, a fresh layer of snow collecting on the ground as she walked.

Excusing herself from the kitchen table, T'Kar poured a cup of steaming _theris-masu_ and stepped outside to join Anna. Hearing footfall crunching softly through the snow behind her, she turned to see T'Kar with one arm outstretched, offering the hot beverage.

"I am sorry this time with your husband has turned into a fiasco," Anna said softly.

"While this situation is most unfortunate for you, it is no inconvenience for us. We are honored to provide any service that you require."


	46. Chapter 46

**The Vigil**

Emma stood at the bottom of the stairs looking upward toward her parent's bedroom door, and then slowly began to climb. She tapped on the door, and when there was no answer, she opened it finding him unresponsive. She gently took the PADD from his hands, noting it was still recording. She stopped it and set it aside.

/Sarek, it's time./

/Understood./

As the family gathered with Will, Sorel conducted another medical scan, and then shut the device off, putting it away quietly, standing with his _aduna,_ in silent observation, fingers paired.

Anna sat on the bed with him, gently holding his hand in hers. Thankful they had taken time to talk, she watched his chest rise and fall slowly, each slightly less than the one before. She thought about the life she had built with him, and struggled to consider another without him.

Murron and Jenny each flanked Ken at the foot of the bed as he looked upon his little brother, considering all of the experiences they shared: hunting, playing soccer, going to college, beginning families of their own, traveling through the galaxy in service to the Federation. Ken put his arms around his wife and daughter, grateful for them.

Sarek stood quietly behind Emma, listening to her thoughts silently as the waves of grief were beginning to crash heavily upon her. Outwardly, she showed little; inwardly, her pain was deeply entrenched. He gently placed his hand upon her shoulder in silent support.

Nearly undetectable now, Will's diminished breathing slowed, and finally stopped. His body relaxed, and he was gone. Fifty-eight years he'd walked the Earth, and as is for all living things, his life had finally been required of him. A long moment passed as no one moved, no words were spoken. Sarek turned her to face him. He looked searchingly into her eyes.

" _Tushah nash-veh, aduna_ ," he whispered as he embraced her tenderly. " _O'hakausu, rihamau_."

Sorel nodded silently and ran one final scan, verifying what they'd witnessed. "It is done."

Silently, Jenny opened the bedroom window as was long tradition; their ancestors believing that the spirit of the dead would remain in the home if the window nearest their body was closed. While she was not so sure of that, she honored it tradition anyway. Murron went to Anna while Ken stepped into the hallway and called the vicar of their church. Moments later the church bell began to toll loudly, notifying the community.

The women sat on the back porch bundled up in blankets, talking quietly together, only Anna was silent. Murron began to braid her long, red-silver hair as waves of grief fell fresh upon her.

 _January, 2254_

 _She hurriedly put on her dress and combed her hair, having to slow herself as she encountered tangle after tangle._

 _"Murron!" she yelled. "I need help! It's a big one this time. Murr!"_

 _Her big sister stood in the doorway looking at the disaster that was in front of her, and smiled. "Ya know, six months ago, you couldn't stand him. Is he really worth all this effort, Anna?"_

 _"Is Ken?"_

 _"Well yeah - it's not even the same. As I recall, you said 'not even if my existence depended on it' or something like that."_

 _"I know, but that was then." A disbelieving stare in the mirror bored through the meager defense. She never could outwit Murron in that regard._

 _"Gimme that brush before you destroy these locks. You get the pretty hair and don't appreciate it one iota," she exclaimed with false indignation, snatching the brush from Anna's hand and working out the offending tangle._ _Then she set to braiding it, one piece after another, producing, a two-foot-long braid of intense, red hair lay gently down the slope of her back._

 _"So, could I impose upon you to fasten the back of my dress, or shall I grant him the easiest access to my purity in the history of all Scotland?" Anna asked with a sarcastic smile._

 _Murron laughed and shook her head as she secured the dress, and then placed her hands on her sister's shoulders. "You look lovely. I only hope that boy appreciates you, Anna. He sure as hell doesn't deserve ya..."_


	47. Chapter 47

**Preparations**

Sarek watched through the kitchen window as the McLeod women comforted one another, taking part in mercy rituals that had surely been performed for generations before them. He turned as Ken approached. "What is required at this time?"

"We'll need to visit the joiner to purchase the casket, go to the pub for provisions – we'll not be cooking for certain, and then we make final preparations for the morrow," Ken replied quietly. "You stay with Emma. I can take care of this."

"It would appear they are caring for one another at this time. Perhaps we shall divide the tasks and return sooner," Sarek suggested.

 _August 2256_

 _Uncharacteristically nervous, Will McLeod paced around the garden of their family home, shivering in the cool evening. He kept checking plants for pruning, maintenance - and resigned himself to leaving them alone before he pruned them to death._

 _"Little brother, did ya get it?" Ken asked._

 _Will pulled the box out of his pocket and handed it to him. Ken opened it and looked at the beautiful stone on the simple gold band. It was accompanied by two additional rings, one larger, one smaller._

 _"Will, how long did it take you to get the money for this? This is expensive!" Ken asked._

 _"I started saving for it after she finally went to the games with me."_

 _"You know she only went to shut you up, right?"_

 _"Aye...but Ken, it's her. I won't have another," Will said softly. "Besides, that would mean she likes to shut me up on a regular basis."_

 _Ken looked at him and laughed out loud. He put his arm around his brother's shoulder and they headed to the house together._

 _Will sat in the flitter outside the McIvers' home, waiting quietly for 1900 hours to arrive. As he was poised to knock on the door, it opened with Anna there. After a short conversation with the entire family, he and Anna were left alone in the family room._

 _"So, uhm, Anna, I want to talk to you about somethin'," he said quietly._

 _"What?"_

 _"Well," he paused for a moment. Where was his resolve?_

 _"Will McLeod, what is the matter with you this evening?" she asked, chuckling. "You are not yourself, sir."_

 _"No, I'm not. Anna." Again, he paused._

 _"Will! Out with it."_

 _He held her hands in his. "I love you, you know that, right?"_

 _"Aye. As I, you," she said, looking at him, wondering what his problem was._

 _"Anna, I want to… I mean, would you...no, dammit, Anna, will you marry me?" he blurted out, and_ not _in the elegant way he had rehearsed for months._

 _She sat and smiled at him, stifling laughter. It was highly unlike him to not do everything with the utmost confidence. "William Nathaniel, are you asking me to be your wife?"_

 _"I believe I said that," he replied with indignation at her teasing._

 _She ran her hand down the length of his beard for a moment, looking into dark green eyes. "Of course I will."_

 _Two weeks later Murron, very pregnant with her firstborn son, stood behind her baby sister, placing a delicate wreath in her hair. No braids on this day. Instead, the long hair was left to its natural curls, pinned up and away from her ears, cascading down her back._

 _"I_ never _thought I would see this day, Anna."_

 _"Me either. I thought he'd never ask," she replied._

 _Murron laughed at her._

 _"No, silly. I never saw you spending any more time with that wretched boy than absolutely necessary. Now he's won your heart. Ken says he has never seen Will so happy..._

Sarek watched his wife embrace her mother in her arms, as waves of anguish washed over with renewed strength, and then departed their home. Emma sat holding her mother listening to her grief pour out as too much water into a small vessel. Anna looked at her again, holding her face gently in her hands, tracing the McLeod nose, eyebrows, and chin.

5 _January 2258_

 _Will again paced aggressively in his garden, waiting anxiously for any news of Anna and their baby. At twenty, he felt not quite ready for fatherhood, but, as Ken had so graciously pointed out, 'it was time to pay the piper'._

 _Although he could have insisted he stay with Anna, the midwife, Adairia had encouraged him to 'please allow the women to care for one another as they had for thousands of years'. He realized it was midwife code for 'go away, you will only be under foot'._

 _Ken walked out to the garden with coffee and his twenty-month-old son Daniel. He handed the coffee to Will as the little boy squealed with delight._

 _"_ Sneachda, _Papa_!"

 _"He never gets over the snow, does he?" Will asked, with a chuckle._

 _"No. He is so easy to please. How are you doing?"_

 _The conversation paused as they heard Anna's cries of pain intensify._

 _"I wish they'd let me in there. I don't want her to be alone right now," he replied honestly. "I got her in this position, and I don't like it that she is suffering."_

 _"Will, let's be honest here: you both were involved in that, and she's not alone. Let's recount who's there: Adairia, Murron, Ailis, Karyn - she_ _is in good hands. Besides, you would only be under foot."_

 _"I figured as much," he paused as Daniel sneezed abruptly. "Come here, wee boy."_

 _He pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned up the aftermath of the sneeze, and picked him up. Daniel smiled widely and patted Will on the head, and then shivered._

 _"We probably ought to go in. If Murron finds I brought him out in this cold again, I am in trouble for sure."_

 _Will stoked the fire and tried to not worry about the anguish cries coming from upstairs. Anna was hurting, and he knew it. But then he heard another element: the voices of the women with her, encouraging her, helping, guiding - soothing:_

 _"..._ _Anna...push..."_

 _She strained with effort, and it hurt him._

 _"_... _again..."_

 _"...little sister, you can do this..."_

 _She cried out._

 _"..._ am cruadalach nighean..."

 _He agreed with her mother, Karyn: Anna was a brave daughter._

 _Her father Patrick entered the living room, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She will be all right, Will. But I suppose that doesn't make you feel any better about the situation."_

 _He nodded quietly, but paused when he heard Anna's voice as she wept._

 _"_ Chan eil mi a' smaoinneachadh se comasach-"

 _She was quickly interrupted by Adairia. "Yes, Anna, you can do this, and you will. Now breathe, calm yourself, and push. She is almost here."_

 _He heard the bedroom door open, and Ailis MacGinnis called down the stairs, "Will, it's time, come up quickly now, boy."_

 _Excusing himself abruptly, he cleared two steps at a time and stood at the door, peering in. He glanced at the women who did not acknowledge his presence, solely focused on their tasks. Then he saw her, exhausted, her body straining._

 _"Anna, twice more and she's here," Adairia said gently to her._

 _Murron realized he was there and went to him. "Well, go to her, Will. Don't be afraid."_

 _He went to her and placed his hand on her shoulder as she labored, and a moment later, it was done. A tiny voice cried in angry protest as she was cleaned and inspected, but when she was handed to Anna, it happened: something that would be spoken of in village lore for years to come. The tiny girl stopped crying, looked into her mother's eyes, and openly smiled._

 _Murron took a photograph of Anna holding Emma Catherine._

 **A/N: The author has done the best she can for accuracy with Scots Gaelic. If you're aware of translation issues, please message her.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Little Moira**

Arriving in Kyleakin, Ken parked the flitter and handed him several papers that required attention. As Sarek walked through the silent streets, he observed the people standing to the side for him to pass, nodding to him silently in respect. Arriving at the pub, he found it to be only one of a few businesses open. He entered to find a busy crowd eating breakfast and as they became aware of his presence, the room fell silent.

David Buchanan approached. "Good morning, Sarek. How may I help you?"

"I will acquire this list of provisions for the family," Sarek said, handing him the list.

David nodded and left to gather the items.

At that moment, a young girl approached him.

"Yes?" Sarek answered quietly.

"My father said Dr. McLeod died this morning."

"Yes."

"He was my favorite teacher," she whispered.

"Moira, let the ambassador be. He does not need to be concerned with you at this time, girl."

"Aye, sir," she answered, watching Sarek carefully as David invited him to sit as the list was being filled.

"I still have some of that tea Emma brought last night. Would you care for some?" David asked, as people returned to their meals, albeit hushed in a vain attempt to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place.

"Yes, thank you."

"Moira, tea please. It's that Vulcan blend," he instructed.

She nodded silently and disappeared.

"Please excuse my daughter," he began, "I am afraid she is just too curious for her own good," he said with a smile.

"Curiosity is not an offense."

"You are quite popular around here, ya know," David said.

"I do not understand."

"She is nine. The children just learned about first contact, and she has endless questions about your culture. They know that you are Emma's husband. Our community loves Emma dearly, and what comes with her is important to us. You're a part of this community now," he replied.


	49. Chapter 49

**The Last Responsiblity**

Sorel sat quietly in the living room by the fireplace as he continued to learn about the culture of the remote island population. As he completed a section of the historical texts Ken had loaned to him, a knock rapped on the front door. Answering it, he found an elderly couple. She looked at him for a long moment and then to her husband.

"You are not Emma's husband," Ailis said, confused.

"No, _T'Sai_ , I am not. Please come in."

"We have brought the garment that Emma requested."

As they spoke quietly, Murron greeted them "Good morning, Ieuan, Ailis. You'll have tea?" she asked, taking their coats.

Ailis nodded, handing her the package as Ieuan placed a basket of dense, brown blocks by the hearth. He noticed Sorel observing this carefully, and explained.

"It is customary to bring peat to the family to aid in heating and cooking. I expect a large amount will arrive in the coming days."

Murron looked at the box in her hands, knowing what was inside. Emma and Anna joined her as Anna opened it, revealing the sage chambray burial clothing Ailis spent the early morning hours sewing for Will.

"As always, Ailis, an excellent job. He would thank you himself if he were able. It's beautiful," Anna said.

Ailis spoke with a saddened air of life experience, "Let's get this task completed for him then."

As she watched Anna and Emma follow Ailis, Murron realized T'Kar was still in the room, alone. She thought about it for a moment, remembering Will describing the Vulcan tendency to offer service when possible, and decided that T'Kar needed something to do.

"T'Kar, we could use some help? There are several duties that must be performed to prepare his body for burial," she offered.

As she followed the women up the stairs, she felt a modicum of satisfaction with the acceptance embedded in the request. Entering the room, she found the others, speaking together quietly in their native language, pausing when she entered. Ailis invited her to join them, and smiled sadly.

"We can always use more hands for these tasks, T'Kar. Thank you for your help."

With ancient hands and gentle words, Ailis explained each duty: washing the body, trimming the beard, clipping nails, and as she did, Anna sat nearby watching, wrapped in his tartan and she felt lost. She had performed these duties for other families in the community many times over. After so many years of mercy for others, it was time for her to allow that same mercy to be returned.

"Anna? It's time," Murron said softly, and handed her the soft chambray burial clothes. The other women watched silently.

"I don't want to do this. I can't."

"I know, love," Ailis answered kindly. "This will finish it. Consider it your last duty to him."

She nodded silently, holding the beautiful garment in her hands. As they dressed Will in his final wardrobe, she bade a silent farewell to the man that had been her companion, lover, and friend for so long.

Returning from his errands, Sarek noted the women returned to the gathering of family and friends, with exception of Emma. A logical search found her wrapped up in his previous day's robes asleep on their bed. He quietly closed the bedroom door and walked to her, lying down behind her. Even as he pulled her close to him, she did not stir. He had almost fallen asleep himself when a light knock rapped on the door. Answering it, he found Sorel.

"Sarek, I have been monitoring Emma's medical readouts, and she must eat soon. Given the physical and emotional strain she is under, we must ensure that her health is monitored very carefully."

"Agreed. She is asleep at the moment, and I believe it not wise to wake her. I can feel her exhaustion through our bond," he replied.

"If she does not independently rise in two hours, then wake her. Ensure that she eats at that time."

He nodded and then quietly closed the door. Returning to her, she stirred in his arms.

"I woke when he knocked, and I don't want anything to eat, Sarek."

"For your health, you must, _aduna_."

"I am not hungry."

"I surmise there is one thing you will eat…" He was brusquely interrupted.

"Nope, nothing," she paused. "I just want to sleep for a while."

"Then sleep, my wife. Shall I stay with you?"

In silent answer, she rolled over and buried herself in his chest and neck, putting her arm around his waist and held tightly to him. He looked down at her, holding her as another moment of grief struck her broadly.

"As you wish, _k'diwa_."

Two hours later, Anna was making a pot of tea when Sarek entered the kitchen.

"Anna, where are the tomatoes?"

"Are you hungry?" she asked, momentarily relieved to find something to do. "I'll fix you something if you like, Sarek. You needn't prepare it yourself."

"No, thank you. You must not concern yourself with my needs at this time. I will prepare mid-meal for my wife."

"Oh. The tomatoes are in the basket by the sink," she replied, sitting down and watching as he began to prepare food for her daughter. "What are you making?"

"Tomato sandwiches. She stated she does not wish to eat at this time; however, for the health of both her and our son, she must. I surmise she will eat this."

"How can you be so sure?" Anna asked, fully aware of just how stubborn Emma could be - she did come by it honestly, after all.

"She has a regular craving for them."

Emma rolled over, still in his robe, and inhaled his scent deeply from the collar. It was a comforting thing, and she was so thankful to not be alone in this time. She had learned to manage just about anything after Bruce died, but this was definitely partnership territory.

"I knew you would come back," she said through a yawn. "But I am still not hungry."

Sarek decided to use a tactic he preferred to leave alone. "Skelan is in need of nourishment," he replied. Deciding to add incentive, he continued. "I have prepared tomato sandwiches."

Not only had he played the guilt-trip card, he was manipulating her with her favorite food, so she resigned herself to concede defeat _this_ time and sat up, accepting the plate from him as they ate together quietly. After yet another tasty tomato sandwich, she handed the plate back to him and then touched her fingers to his.

"Thank you for looking after me."

"If you desire, I shall prepare another. You only need ask."

She looked at him, and then at the empty plate.

"Yes," he said softly, "I will make you another."


	50. Chapter 50

**Rituals**

Emma awoke from a second nap to hear several voices downstairs. Entering the living room, she found John Davis, the town joiner. He nodded at her gently.

"Hello, Emma."

"Mr. Davis, how are you?"

"I'd rather visit under different circumstances. I went to school with your dad. I'm gonna miss him," he said.

He nodded and smiled sadly, then signaled the other men with him to take the casket up to the bedroom. Sorel stood with T'Kar, their fingers paired.

"What are they doing, Emma?" she asked.

" _'Kistaning'_. They will place his body into the casket and then bring it out of the house." She paused a moment and took a deep breath. "It's the last time he'll be here."

A few moments later, the bedroom door opened, and a carefully guided effort brought his casket down. The family stood quietly and watched as John Davis followed, instructing the young men in procedure.

"As you take it out the door, it is always feet first. Michael, hold with one hand, open the door with the other - brace on your leg if you have to, one smooth motion - don't risk dropping it, son."

In a fluid motion, the door opened and they moved through. John looked at Ken and nodded as he followed them out. Ken walked to Sarek and asked him to collect a few items as the family followed outside. Sarek joined them with a large plate, salt, and soil from the garden.

Before the joiner sealed the coffin, Ken placed the plate upon Will's chest, and then spoke.

"The custom of 'earth laid upon the corpse' serves to remind us of two axioms, and to bring us hope."

Sarek handed him the container of soil, which Ken spread over one half the plate.

"Our bodies came from the Earth, and will decay, returning back to it." He paused as Sarek handed him the container of salt, which he spread over the empty half of the plate. "However, the salt will remain, as does the soul. Tomorrow morning we'll say goodbye to his body, but Will is never be gone from us."


	51. Chapter 51

**Meditation and Therapy**

Sarek, Sorel, and T'Kar each found themselves in need of time for meditation after the intensity and suffering of the McLeod family over the previous days. Ken, having strongly agreed that these events were not the norm for a family vacation, arranged for them to visit the village church in privacy and solitude as needed for meditation. Being only a thirty minute walk from the house, they found the journey provided fruitful opportunities for conversation amongst themselves.

"Many of the customs of this culture are riddled with superstition, Sarek. I find them to be illogical," Sorel said.

"I must ask, Sorel, how many of _our_ traditions are steeped in such ritual and mystery? I find sound reasoning in the ritual of salt and earth. It is highly similar to acknowledgment of the _katra_."

"Agreed," T'Kar replied. "I found the rites performed for the preparation of his body were in accordance with many of our own. I would conclude that were our natural environments similar, perhaps there would be even greater correlations."

"I would ask a personal question, Sarek," Sorel began.

Sarek nodded.

"How is Emma managing the loss of her father? I recall Daniel's response to the deaths of his parents, and ultimately his entire family over time to be very difficult to read. He was often unwilling to seek assistance through his grief. We had to become creative in that effort."

Sarek thought for a moment as they walk quietly toward home. "She is profoundly wounded. While our people grieve for a time and apportion that loss to meditation, humans are not evolved to accept it in such a manner. She has not yet spoken of it yet,but I believe that as she progresses through these early days, she will."

Emma worked in solitude to prepare the master bedroom for use once again. After cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, and making the bed anew, she stopped and looked at old holopics of her family.

 _Her_ _parent's wedding day...a honeymoon in Wales...Anna holding Emma the first time...Will earning his doctorate...fishing with Da...gardening with Ma...their small family...Emma playing the cello for the first time at age seven...Will teaching Emma to use her new telescope..._

The final task given her by Ken before he and his family had gone home to rest was to clean and prepare Will's tartan. Opening the closet door, she found her father's wardrobe in immaculate order, as it had always been. Shirts neatly pressed, coats ordered by weight, color and purpose, pairs of shoes lined out and polished, the four pair of actual trousers he owned still in near mint condition hanging next to the nine kilts that were in various stages of heavy wear and use.

Then she saw it hanging: his tartan, in the ancient weave, layed over a hangar after it's having been worn at pub the previous night. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to cry.

Deciding she could do that and continue cleaning, she started to dust the stair rail. Working her way down from the top, she paused on the fourth step down, lost in an old memory…

 _6 March 2265_

 _Will kissed seven-year-old Emma on the forehead after reading three books and obtaining two glasses of water. Emma's insatiable need to be involved in all goings on of family life would have to be put on hold for bed time._

 _"No gettin' out of this, Emma."_

 _"But Da, it's only eight o'clock, and I am_ not _tired," she protested, failing in her attempt to stifle a yawn._

 _"I see that, and I understand what you're saying', but you must sleep now."_

 _"I just want to participate..."_

 _Will looked at her, wondering how many other parents had children who wanted to stay up to 'participate'._

 _"Emma, I love you, and goodnight. There'll be plenty to participate on the morrow."_

 _With that, he tucked her in, gently ran his hand down the side of her face, and turned the light out as he left. Walking down the stairs, he marveled at the mind that was growing inside the child._

 _"Participate," he chuckled as he joined Anna in the living room by the fire._

 _"What are you laughin' at?" she asked with a smile._

 _He kissed her and sat on the sofa, welcoming her into his arms in the darkness. "Our daughter wishes to stay up later so that she may 'participate' in the evening with us. Not to play or read or stargaze, mind ya, but to 'participate'."_

 _"She said that?"_

 _"Indeed she did, and was rather frustrated with me. But, I surmise I'll be forgiven," he said with a smile._

 _Anna toyed with his beard a moment. "Come here."_

 _He leaned in as she kissed him._

 _"What was that for?"_

 _"I need a reason now?" She laughed._

 _"Anna, I know that you told me you weren't interested in going through labor again in the least bit, and not that I blame ya, but what do you think about having another baby?"_

 _"Well, I did say that right after giving birth, so I think I may have been biased," she smiled. "Are you wantin' another?"_

 _"I think it might be nice to have one more, if you're up to it." He held her close to him, kissing her ear and neck._

 _Emma managed to sneak out of her room and perch at the top of the stairs, and listened, wondering exactly_ what _they were doing._

 _They lay together in the firelight, and despite sincerely motivated interest, the mood was not going where either thought or hoped it would._

 _"Will?" Anna asked, putting her hand on his chest to stop them._

 _"Hmm?" he replied, running his hands down her back inside her blouse, caressing her skin softly._

 _"Is it such a good idea? Another child, I mean?" Anna asked._

 _"You think not?" Will said, his hands lingering on her hips._

 _"Well, she needs our attention all of the time. As much as I would love to have a baby again, I am not so certain it's the right decision. You said it yourself a moment ago: 'participate'. How many seven year olds want that? And the questions she asks, honestly."_

 _His libido waned, replaced with concern._

 _"Her teacher called on us today after school. Evidently, Miss Emma has completed the materials for this year and almost all of the next. She is reading three years ahead of the other children."_

 _"I know she reads well, but we've always read with her…"_

 _Anna interrupted him gently._

 _"She has completed math for the next two levels already."_

 _Will sat up and looked at his wife in disbelief. "What? That's algebra, and I haven't taught her that yet."_

 _"She figured it out, Will. On her own, and they're moving her into more challenging material on Monday."_

 _He just looked at her as she continued. "She is also having difficulty interacting with her peers."_

 _"How? She is a great kid. She can get along with anyone."_

 _"Anyone that is an adult. Her classmates don't know how to be with her, or she with them. Her teacher said that Emma does not play. She wants to spend her time with the teachers, and asks a lot of questions. They're concerned, Will, as am I."_

 _"Then we can't have any more," he said quietly, feeling saddened. "It won't be good for her."_

 _Anna looked at the disappointment on his face. She knew he wanted a son, and would gladly have gone through it all again for him._

 _"Will, she is a remarkable and unique blessing, and deserves our very best. The moment we made her, it was not about us anymore. We understood that, remember?"_

 _He nodded._

 _"I know you want a son, but if we're to provide her needs, there can't be anymore."_

 _Emma sat on the stairs, confused, and suddenly no longer wished to participate._

After she finished dusting the banister and railing, she walked into the living room and began straightening up, putting books and PADDs back where they belonged, fluffing cushions, and stoking the fireplace. As she set the overflowing basket of peat back down, she saw something under the bookshelf. She pulled it out and found an old picture. Kneeling down in front of the fireplace and looked at herself: fourteen years old and as her father would have said 'having the look of her mother', next to Bruce McGregor, on the sofa in that very living room. They were smiling at each other. Emma sighed and wiped the tears away, remembering that night vividly.

She thought back to something she heard Elder Sulok say to T'Naara at the embassy when his wife, T'Val died.

 _'Death is only worth grieving if the individual's life was wasted.'_

Emma struggled with how that comforted a child grieving her grandmother. She made a mental note to speak with him about that upon their return to San Francisco. She placed her father's plaid and kilt upon his favorite chair and opened the chest that sat behind it. Inside were many things of value to the family - worthless to anyone else - those trinkets and heirlooms that pass from one generation to the next. She lifted the top tray from the chest to reveal something she'd not seen in ages...the kilts of family members long past. As she took them out to better arrange them to accommodate the addition of Will's, she found a large envelope with her name that she had never seen before…

 _7 February 2274_

 _Bruce returned from space dock exhausted from a long training exercise, and as he was departing the public transport platform, he decided he would stop by to visit Emma before returning to his tiny flat._

 _Arriving at the McLeod house, he found it unusually quiet. At the door there was no smell of supper cooking, the garden found it untended; only the argument between Will and Anna._

 _"I'll not allow it! She cannot just be sent away, especially not to some planet to be managed like an idiot by a species of people I know nothing about! I won't hear of it."_

 _Bruce stood quietly and decided that while eavesdropping was not in his nature normally, he should be listening to this._

 _"Anna, listen. The Betazoid people are very kind, and they know what to do for her – they're suspicious she's been misdiagnosed. There are too many things left unresolved. Honestly, do you think Emma is mentally ill?"_

 _"I don't know what to think anymore, Will," she said through frustrated tears. "She's becoming violent - another fight today, she stays isolated from everyone. I know she is depressed, I can see it. Her studies have fallen off completely. Do you know she told me she knew what Ailis was thinking when she and Ieuan were here for dinner the other night? Who hears voices, Will? She is sick!"_

 _"Anna, come here - " he tried to comfort her, but she refused._

 _"No. I won't be placated into cooperating with this. You better give me some damned good reasons to package her up and send her away, William. I did not birth her to just abandon her in this time!"_

 _Bruce heard a slight noise behind him, and when he turned, he saw Emma there. She was sitting under the oak tree beside the garden, her knees tucked under her chin, face wet with tears, and a black eye from that afternoon's fight. He approached her quietly, and sat down in front of her._

 _"Hi," he said quietly._

 _She looked at him, her eyes showing darkened circles underneath, and stress in her face., along with the addition of a freshly blackened eye._

 _"That's quite a shiner you got there… who gave it you?" he asked_

 _"Eryn Davies. You should see her, though. She says I'm a freak of nature."_

 _"Aye, she's sayin' it with a fat lip, too. My money'll always be on you. Come here," he beckoned, taking her into his arms._

 _"Anna, quiet yourself and listen to me, woman!" He shouted, and looked at the floor. He took a deep breath, calming himself._

 _"They're suspicious she's got an undiagnosed esper ability. Most humans never have it at all. They said studies are showing about 3% of the human population have any, period. It's a gift, Anna, a precious gift._

 _"They think that if she is 'hearing voices' that she is receiving projected emotions and thoughts, and because of her stable mental health up to now it's worth considering at least an evaluation."_

 _"Ok, what does that mean, and how do they know about it?" she asked._

 _"Betazoids are natural empaths and telepaths. They commonly communicate telepathically. In fact, one of our hosts joked about speaking out loud out of courtesy to us. It's in their nature, Anna. They have some of the best facilities for helping individuals deal with esper-related issues. They rival the Vulcans in that way, and honestly, if she were to go anywhere at all, I would prefer Betazed simply because of her emotional needs right now._

 _"Anna, they said that most people who are undiagnosed with these types of issues at her age are never able to function within normal society. They requested all kinds of preliminary information about her, so I gave it them. They believe she has a chance to survive and live normally._

 _"I cannot sit idly by, watching my only child suffering through misunderstanding and social abuse when I can do something about it. I'll quit my job right now and go with her if it means she will grow up as a healthy and happy woman. I don't want this to scare Bruce away from her."_

 _"William, no one is quitting anything. I'll thank you to drop that right now." She looked at him with great scrutiny. "You are certain this is the right thing for her?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Beyond shadow of any doubt?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"How much is this going to cost?"_

 _"Nothing. They have offered their services to us. She only needs a place to live, and they will do the rest. They're waiting in orbit for an answer right now. They'll start with her today."_

Emma looked over the documents declaring her mental fitness to be sound, identifying her esper abilities, and documenting the courses of counseling and training she would undergo while on Betazed - an opportunity that came to her simply because of her father's persistent love. Was his life wasted? By no means. The life she now led, it was because of him. Perhaps she would be able to grow through this time of change and accept his death as a celebration of a life fulfilled by duty, responsibility, and true paternal love. She would try her best to do so.


	52. Chapter 52

**What's Heard Is Left Unspoken**

The Vulcans approached the home quietly, and found it vacant with the exception of Emma in the kitchen cooking supper. As Sorel and T'Kar excused themselves, Sarek joined her.

" _Aduna_."

She turned to him and gave a small smile, pairing her fingers to his. "Were you able to find an appropriate place for meditation?"

"Yes. As always, you have been industrious."

"I needed cleaning therapy. It's good for the _katra_. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am.

"Have you got some time to talk?"

"Of course."

She made tea for them and they sat at the kitchen table.

"I have been thinking about what Sulok said to T'Naara about the death of her grandmother. I have also been thinking about how Da's life was not a waste." She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I can't just make myself pretend to act as if it does not hurt, but it's a great solace to know that."

"I do not expect you to deal with this loss in any other manner than natural for you. It is acceptable to me that you understand the merit of his life and realize it as negation of loss."

In the early morning hours, she awoke in darkness. Sarek slept soundly, his chest rising and falling slowly. She rose quietly, put on her robe, and stepped into the hallway. She stood in her parent's bedroom a few moments and thought about the previous day, thankful that her father's suffering was over.

Deciding on a cup of tea, she began to walk down the hall and heard a distinctly whispered '... _k'diwa t'nash-veh..._ ' from the guest room, followed by a soft sigh. She silently moved out of their zone of privacy. It was perfectly understandable for them to partake in joining after separation followed by such stress. She would certainly feel horrified to know anyone at the embassy had ever heard her and Sarek engaging one another in sexual intimacy.

Sarek awoke to find her absent from their bed, and after waiting a reasonable amount of time for her to return, rose to find her. He saw the dim light at the bottom of the stairs and as he passed down the hallway, his hearing picking up the intimacies taking place in the other bedroom. Continuing down the stairs, finding her in front of the fireplace, he sat with her on the sofa and thought carefully about how to respond to the thoughts running through her mind.

/I am certain your awareness of their activities was unintentional, but you must not speak of it with them./

/I certainly wouldn't. It just made me wonder about us./

He looked at her quietly, awaiting expression of herself to him.

/You have been most accommodating to my desires since we have bonded, but, well, I need to know if I am asking too much of you. I certainly am hopeful that is not the case. I enjoy our intimacy, but I will feel bad if I am taking advantage of your willingness to accommodate me./

/Were your desires to tax my willingness to accommodate your innate need for intimacy, I would speak of that with you, Emma. You ask very little of me. I find it a logical to provide for all your needs./

He paused as a stray thought pushed through her control. /No, I do not engage in those activities with you simply out of a sense of duty. You are my wife, the focus of all my attentions./


	53. Chapter 53

**Funerary Rites**

Fifteen hundred hours found them at the small church that had been in the community for hundreds of years. Originally constructed in 1755, it had endured several renovations over the centuries. The arched doorway was short enough that the Vulcans had to stoop down to enter, and once everyone who could fit into the small building was inside, the funeral began.

Their minister spoke of the importance of recognizing the value of a life spent well, of service to the community, the importance of maintaining culture, and love of family. He described all of these things in Will, and when he ahd said his piece, an invitation was made to the assembled to offer their memories of Will's life, and to encourage one another to remember him for it rather than grieve his death alone.

Schoolmates remembered his proclivity for getting into mischief, and foisting the consequences on others. Friends talked of his sense of humor and how he could find humor in nearly anything. Fellow citizens spoke of his generosity in times of need, his ensuring people had what they needed without a loss of face.

Anna spoke of love, persistence, and pride in his culture. Through teary eyes she described his joy at being able to travel throughout the Federation with Ken and the Diplomatic Corps as they worked to integrate new sentient species into the growing diversity of their existence. She described his love for learning, and teaching the children of their island upon his retirement. She described the unfailing faithfulness and loyalty of an extraordinary husband and father.

Nine year old Moira Buchanan stood and spoke softly.

"Dr. McLeod was my teacher, and I miss him. I'll recite the poem he taught us this year, please."

The young girl walked to the front and stood next to his casket, reciting each line one by one. Some silently spoke with with her - but everyone knew it. end.

 _Fareweel to Scotia_ _by William Air Foster_

 _Fareweel to ilka hill where the red heather grows,_

 _To ilk bonnie green glen whaur the mountain stream rows,_

 _To the rock that re-echoes the torrent's wild din,_

 _To the graves o' my sires and the hearths o' my kin._

 _Fareweel to ilk strath an' the lav'rocks sweet sang -_

 _For trifles grow dear when we've kenn'd them sae lang;_

 _Round the wanderer's heart a bright halo they shed,_

 _A dream o' the past when a' others have fled._

 _The young hearts may kythe though they're forced far away,_

 _But it's dool to the spirit when haffets are grey;_

 _The saplin' transplanted may flourish a tree,_

 _Whaur the hardy auld aik wad but wither and dee._

 _They tell me I gang whaur the tropic suns shine,_

 _Ower landscapes as lovely and fragrant as thine;_

 _For the objects sae dear that the hearth had entwined_

 _Turn eeriesome hame-thoughts, and sicken the mind._

 _No, my spirit shall stray whaur the red heather grows!_

 _In the bonnie green glen whaur the mountain stream rows,_

 _'Neath the rock that re-echoes the torrent's wild din,_

 _'Mang the graves o' my sires and the hearths o' my kin._

Ken stood, followed by Sarek and four other clansmen and the mourners left the sanctuary. Together, the men lifted six poles, set them in place under the casket and gently performed _an Togail,_ the lifting.

Walking out of the church, they settled the casket onto a cairn and performed a change of hands. Under the ancient tradition, the changing of hands took place such to allow the casket bearers a chance to rest. There were so many volunteers outside waiting to carry, that Sarek scheduled several changes to accommodate all those wishing to assist as they proceeded to the cemetery.

Upon instruction and arrangement of all involved, Ken assumed his place at the front of the casket, accompanied by the men of the clan, while Anna and Emma fell in behind with the women. As they walked to the cemetery, those who had not attended the funeral parked their flitters at the sides of the roads, and stepped out to allow them passage, many following in line behind. The cemetery was the resting place of most of their family lines, hundreds of headstones spreading out across the field.

Once they arrived at the grave site, the casket was lowered, and each person tossed in a handful of soil as they passed by. In the distance, Daniel played his pipes for his uncle. As the crowd of people offered condolences to the family and departed, Anna sat quietly watching as the men completed filling his grave.

"Excuse me, Mrs. McLeod?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Michael Stuart. I was tasked by Doctor McLeod to bring this to his grave and set it, with your approval."

He brought a modest headstone of native granite to her on an anti-grav unit. She read the inscription Will had chosen for himself. The family gathered round to read Will's last desire for his remembrance, his favorite poem "Requiem" by his favorite poet, Robert Louis Stevenson. Emma read it out loud with a sense of strong familial irony, as it was the poem she had chosen.

 _Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and let me lie._

 _Glad I did live and gladly I die and I laid me down with a will._

 _This be the verse you gave for me:_

 _Here he lies where longed to be._

 _Home is the sailor, home from the sea,_

 _And the hunter home from the hill._

 _William Nathaniel McLeod_

 _b. Kyleakin 14 October 2237_

 _d. Kyleakin 22 December 2295_

Anna sighed. "Mr. Stuart, it's perfect. Thank you."

"Yes ma'am," he answered softly, and then turned to set the stone.


	54. Chapter 54

**One Door Closes, Another Opens**

2295.1226

When the flitter parked outside the home, Anna quietly walked to the door and met Daniel and his wife Cassie on the porch.

"Sweet Girl, how much longer do ya have?"

"Six weeks now. I think I am going to pop," she smiled in reply.

"No, you look lovely. Well, here are the keys. Promise me you will take good care of the garden, Daniel."

"Anna, are you sure about this? It's so soon after - it's your home."

"Dan, you'll never know what your father sacrificed for us. This home is your birthright. There should always be a McLeod in this house; it should never stand empty. Maintain the traditions of this clan, honor your name. Raise your family well, and tell your grandchildren about their great-great-uncle Will."

"So what're you gonna do now then? Where'll you go?" he asked sadly, as Cassie gently placed her arm around his waist.

"I'm gonna make the most of the time I have left."

As they continued to talk, the embassy shuttle landed quietly in the street, the door opened, and Soran approached quietly.

Sarek and Sorel walked out of the home, followed by their bond-mates, as Jenny helped to load belongings into the shuttle. As final departure preparations were made, Ken and Murron approached Anna.

"Anna, you didn't have to, you know," Ken said.

"I know, and it's my pleasure. I have a whole new life waiting for me to find it."

Murron's eyes welled with tears she fought to hold back. She wiped them on her sleeve and hugged her sister tightly.

"You've always been here. I'm gonna miss ya," Murron tried to feign a smile and kissed her sister on the cheek.

Hugging them both and climbed aboard the shuttle, waving through the window.

Sarek approached Ken. "Is there anything else that requires attention before we depart?"

"No. You helped to relieve a tremendous burden for me. I thank you."

"It is my honor to serve this family," he said, looking all of them, raising his hand in the salute. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life, _Osu,_ " Daniel replied.

As they boarded the shuttle, and the door closed, Ken watched while Murron stood in his arms. So much had changed - so much had ended, yet in the place of death, life once again was rising forth.

 ** _Author's Note: The social customs and familial behaviors described surrounding the death and burial of William McLeod were developed from research regarding funerary rites in the Hebridean Islands. All references to specific customs and reasoning for them were taken from the dissertation of Dr. F. G. Vallee. The document, "Burial and Mourning Customs in a Hebridean Community", was written in 1955, and can be found for further enlightenment in the archives of The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britian, volume 85, number 1 of 2, pages 119 to 130._**


	55. Chapter 55

**What Have I Gotten Myself Into**

2295.1226

Sitting quietly on the shuttle, Anna's nerves got the best of her as they prepared for landing at the Vulcan Embassy. Emma reached to her and held her hand for a moment.

"You ready, Mum?"

"Yeah. So, what happens now?" Anna asked, taking a deep breath.

"Sarek and Sorel will depart first," she paused, understanding the surprised look her mother gave her, "and I will explain that later. It's not what you think. We follow, and I will assist you and Jenny through the security process. This is Vulcan soil, and there are strict entry policies we must adhere to. Just remember one very important thing," Emma paused.

"What's that?" Anna asked.

"A woman of Skye fears no Vulcan."

Soran expertly performed a soft landing, and secured the craft. As the door opened, the cool air of San Francisco bay blew around them. As the staff approached with curious eyes, Anna wondered what she had gotten herself into. Sarek stood evaluated the landing platform and then stepped out of the shuttle, followed by Sorel, and the rest of the party, all greeted formally by a rather formidable looking security contingent.

"Live long and prosper, _Kevet-Dutar_ ," Sulok said as he bowed to Sarek.

"Peace and long life to you, Sulok," he replied. Turning to T'Lyra, he spoke. "Lady Emma's family will take residence in the empty apartment. See that their belongings are brought there after clearance is granted by Savel."

"Yes, _Osu_."

/My wife, I must attend diplomatic responsibilities at this time. Do not delay end-meal or rest on my behalf this evening./

/Understood./

Savel addressed her gently " _T'Sai_ Emma. The embassy staff has been informed of your father's death. _Tushah nash-veh, O'savensu_." As he performed the necessary security protocol, he saw her usually pleasant demeanor masked by grief and exhaustion, then changed to curiosity and confusion.

" _Nemaiyo_ ," she replied, turning to a new member of the security department, curious. "I do not know you."

He was tall, broad shouldered, and very young. While some might have misunderstood his serious demeanor as more Vulcan than necessary, she could sense his internal struggle to maintain control of an odd insecurity. Savel watched Stalos carefully as he answered her.

"Stalos _iwimish_ , _T'Sai_."

"When did you arrive?" she asked, uncomfortable with the young Vulcan, but unable to articulate why.

"Three days ago."

"Well, I am certain you will carry your duties and service out to their fullest conclusion," she said quietly, as he nodded slightly.

"Savel, this is my mother, Anna, and my cousin Jenny," she said, handing him their identification packets.

Anna unflinchingly maintained eye contact with him as he scrutinized her in comparison with her passport. When he nodded, Stalos approached silently and prepared a retinal scanner, taking readings of each of eye, and verified she carried no weapons or malicious items. The scanning device promptly produced an identification badge for her.

"You must wear it at all times when not on the third floor. Should you depart the grounds, you must provide the badge to gain immediate re-entry," Savel said as he fastened it to her blouse.

As the process began again for Jenny, Emma stood with her mother, placing her arm around her shoulder. She sensed bewilderment and fear in her.

"It's going to be ok," she whispered.

"Are they always like this?"

"Yes, and with everyone. They are a large part of why I sleep soundly every night."

"What other rules do I need to know about?" Anna asked, with trepidation.

"It's actually pretty common sense stuff. We will go over it later, Mum. I want you to get settled in first. You are getting my old apartment," she offered with a hint of a smile.

Savel approached Emma again. "They are cleared for access to the Embassy. Shall I instruct them in procedure?"

"No, Savel, thank you. I will attend to it. I accept responsibility for them. Thank you for your service."

He bowed in that delightfully Vulcan way and left silently, followed by the security team as Sulok and T'Lyra approached.

"Mum, they will call you _T'Sai_. It is a title of respect, meaning 'Lady'. If you wish them to call you by your name, you must tell them, as they will not presume to do so. Also, they will not expect you to give the _ta'al_ in return. They only expect you to be what you are."

"What is that, exactly?" Anna asked.

"Human."

Sulok raised his hand in the _ta'al_ and spoke. " _Dif-tor heh smusma, Osavensu_."

" _Osu_ , thank you. It is good to see you again," she replied lowering her hand back to her side, bowing respectfully. "My mother Anna, and my cousin Jenny."

"We were informed of Dr. McLeod's death. We grieve with thee, Lady Anna," Sulok said.

"Thank you. Please, just Anna."

T'Lyra addressed Jenny. "You have been accepted to the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Yes ma'am," Jenny answered quietly.

"Your study of _Vulkahnsu_ will begin tomorrow morning. I will bring the materials you must begin studying to your quarters. Your belongings are being brought there at this time. You will accompany me," T'Lyra requested.

Soran approached them and spoke to Emma.

"The ambassador requires your attendance at this time."

"Understood," she answered. "Mum, T'Lyra will assist you both in settling in. Do not hesitate to ask for assistance if you need anything, ok? We will see you at our quarters for supper at 1800 hours."

Anna watched her daughter turn and walk away, and wondered what the coming months would have in store.


	56. Chapter 56

**Grieve the Loss, But Not The Life**

Emma walked past her favorite Picasso, and knocked on Sarek's office door lightly.

"Come," he said, rising to meet her. "I have received instructions to proceed to the Izarian system immediately. I do not have an estimated return date as of now."

"How can I help?"

"Soran will travel with me, and is making the final preparations as we speak."

"Well, I'll expect to see you be fore you leave, then."

Emma left to find her mother, and as she walked through the halls, she heard a young voice. " _O'savensu_?"

"T'Naara... It's good to see you again," Emma answered, smiling internally at the sight of her wearing the angora gloves she had given her for seeing to the cat.

"I know that Vulcans don't celebrate birthdays, but Humans do. If I am correct, yours is today. So, in the custom of my people, Happy Birthday," Emma said, handing her a second box containing the scarf that would match the gloves.

"Thank you. My grandfather told us that your father died," she said.

Silently cursing the Vulcan tendency for bluntness, Emma looked in to the dark, brown eyes that observed her. "Yes, he did."

T'Naara took a step closer to her. " _Tushah nash-veh, Osu_."

Unaware that both Savel and T'Pola were approaching, Emma knelt to look her pupil in the eyes. "T'Naara, you are most kind. But I'll tell you something now: even though I miss my father, and I feel sad, I have decided not to grieve his death. Do you know why?"

"Yes. His life was not wasted," she replied quietly.

"That is correct. I thank you for thinking of me. Your friendship honors me."

Savel spoke softly. "T'Naara, your studies await you."

Bowing to her father's authority, the young girl quickly left. Emma rose and watched her climb the stairs, disappearing from sight.


	57. Chapter 57

**Where's The Garden**

Having found her new home and been warned about the second floor being off-limits, Anna decided to venture out on her own. She found her way the embassy gardens. While much of the flora was dormant for winter, she explored it anyway, wondering exactly who she needed to bribe or cajole to do some gardening of her own in the spring. As she walked farther and farther out, she came to an isolated fountain and sat on the cold, granite bench. She bundled herself tightly in her plaid as an elder Vulcan approached her from the opposite side.

"May I join you?"

"Certainly - Sulok, correct?"

"Yes." He paused, observing the genetic influence given Emma.

"Often the changes in life that present the greatest difficulty bear the healthiest fruit if allowed to temper us."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Indeed. I'd like to thank you for encouraging my daughter. She has spoken of you specifically to us since she started here in March. I understand she is learning to play an instrument under your instruction."

"Yes. Emma is an excellent student. She is the first I have taken in many years. I find teaching her to be challenging, utilizing all of my experiences to accommodate her learning needs. She is refreshing."

"That's my daughter, for certain," she answered with a soft smile.

"May I ask what brings you to the gardens in this cold?" Sulok asked.

"I love gardens, and when I saw it as we were preparing to land, I decided I needed to find the gardener and ask if I could help, it soothes me. With all the changes in recent days, I could benefit from the stability of it."

"I welcome your assistance," he said with the faintest twinkle in his eyes as hers met his.


	58. Chapter 58

**But We Just Got Home**

Sarek and Emma sat quietly in front of the fire pot, drinking their nightly tea. Her mind was unusually quiet, but occasional thoughts would surface. He touched his fingers to hers for a moment, and relished the surge of their bond. She smiled at him, and laid her head upon his shoulder.

Finally, she broke the silence of the moment. "What time will you leave?"

"0230," Sarek answered.

"I will miss you. I have grown accustomed to your being here with me," she said softly, a moment passing. Thank you for everything: Mum, Jenny – all of it - and don't tell me it was the logical thing to do. I know it was, I'm still grateful."

"We will retire, _aduna_."

Once prepared for sleep, they lay quietly together in the dark. Emma snuggled up in his arms, her head on his shoulder. His hand lay gently on her hip, and then traveled to her belly. He felt where the baby slept securely in her body and kissed her forehead.

"Care for yourself and our son while I am away, Emma. Remain vigilant. Report anything out of order. I much prefer to return to find you both in safety."

Sarek rose quietly in the darkness, gently retrieving his arm from under her neck. She stirred momentarily, returning to sleep almost immediately. As he dressed in preparation for departure, he watched her. Even with the advantage of a tall frame and solid build, she was beginning to show, and he found her appearance quite pleasing. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched his fingers to hers. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at him.

"Is it time to go?"

"Yes. We depart in eleven point four minutes," he answered. He heard Soran enter their apartment, and pause in the living room. "It is time to board the shuttle. I will contact you soon, _k'diwa_."


	59. Chapter 59

**Good News and Bad News: Which One First**

Emma awoke to the chime of their doorbell. She answered the door to find Sorel waiting." _Ha'tha ti'lu_ , Sorel. Please come in."

"Good morning, Emma," he replied, beginning the usual morning scan. "Once you are dressed, we shall perform a comprehensive scan. I will await you."

A few minutes later, they arrived in the med-unit. As T'Pola performed the secondary evaluation, Sorel loaded all the data from their visit to Skye.

"Emma, I am concerned by your weight loss," she said. "You have lost eight point four two pounds in the past seven days. Detail your nutritional intake."

"Well, I ate when I could. This was not an easy journey - "

"Whether or not stress exists, you must maintain sufficient nutrition for both the healthy development of your son and your own sustained resilience during this pregnancy. To fail in this could cause the fetus to develop improperly. His birth would be accompanied by complications."

"Agreed," Sorel chimed in. "I find your health to be unsatisfactory at present. Skelan's physical development must be carefully nurtured during the months of your pregnancy. You must make a better effort than is presently demonstrated, Emma, regardless of how you may be affected by events in your personal life."

She never thought it possible to be shamed by a Vulcan, let alone two of them. In classic McLeod form, she tried to avoid the discomfort of the confrontation with humor.

"Now I have both of you to worry about," she teased, realizing quickly that they were not interested in the intricacies of human jest. "What will you have me do then?"

As T'Pola spoke first. "You will document all nutritional intake. Additionally, I am prescribing nutritional supplements to be added to your current regimen in the morning and evening."

"I am developing an exercise program. I would recommend activities with lower impact potential on your joints, particularly as you progress through the pregnancy," Sorel answered.

"Despite your loss of weight and lower nutrition over the past seven days, the fetus now weighs eleven point two ounces, and is seven point three inches in length," T'Pola said, as the scan of the tiny baby came into focus. "He is developing normally, although his growth is occurring in an unpredictable pattern. We will monitor this closely."

Emma sat in the living room reading in front of the fire pot, her toes warming. The com-unit chimed softly. Anna stood and answered it, to find her son-in-law. "Sarek, How are you?"

"I am well. Have you adjusted to conditions at the embassy?"

"Yes, I have, thank you. T'Lyra has been quite helpful. Can I get Emma for you?"

"Yes."

"Just a moment then," she smiled, walking to the living room. "Emma, he is on the com for you."

Emma made her way to the study and smiled when she saw him. "Hi," she said as she closed the door.

" _Aduna_ , I received communication from Sorel and T'Pola regarding the status of your current health," he said, immediately getting to the point. She found that quite irritating at times.

"Yeah, about that - "

"I can not accept failure to maintain appropriate nutrition for either yourself _or_ that of our son," he interrupted firmly. "I realize the death of your father has been very difficult for you, and I endeavor to empathize with you in this; however, you cannot allow this to continue."

She sat in silence, looking at his image, just listening as he continued. "Your body will undergo tremendous stress in the coming months. Should you allow such nutritional deficit to continue, the last months of this pregnancy will be highly taxing on you both physically and emotionally. I do not wish this time to be unsatisfying for you."

She nodded quietly, and then the tears began to flow. She would not look at him directly, but would not look away either.

"Will my wife not look at me?"

She complied. "Do you think that I just refuse to eat out of sheer rebellion? Do you sincerely think that I, of all women, would just do something to hurt my child?"

It was his turn to sit quietly.

"You've nothing to say now? You had plenty a minute ago, so don't back off now, Sarek. Honestly, do you think so little of my intentions?"

"It is not your intentions that I question, Emma."

Anna sat still in the living room, trying to not hear the argument that was taking place.

"I am doing the best that I can right now. I was already made to feel like a fool this morning. They both shamed me for the weight loss. It is not intentional. I am complying with their instructions fully. Is there anything else you would like to patronize me about or are you quite finished?"

"I am finished," he said quietly, his right eyebrow raised.

"Did they bother to tell you that he is eleven point two ounces and seven point three inches long? Or that he is starting to hiccough? Did they inform you that it means his digestive system is developing properly?"

"No. They spoke only of the concerns they had."

"Well, he is, and it is. He is moving more now than before, and I think I heard him again this afternoon after I went swimming. I need some time to clear my mind. Sleep well," she said, and then disconnected the call.

Donning her ID badge, a pair of shoes, and her plaid, she left the apartment for a walk in the gardens. The com-unit chimed again, and Anna dutifully answered it, finding Sarek.

"Hello again," she said.

"I will speak with my wife," he said quietly.

"Well, she left for a walk," she answered softly.

He exhaled quietly. Anna observed him, and then took a risk. "Sarek, may I be so rude as to offer some advice?" she paused.

"Educate me."

"Emma is very much like her father in some ways that will really matter to you both in your relationship. Will was very sensitive, and while he would try his best to do things correctly - to meet deadlines, to pay extraordinary attention to detail - it was difficult for him to accept criticism, especially when that criticism was well intended and constructive. I was there when little William was stillborn…we all were. I know how she felt, what she experienced. She was not our only child. Before her, I had a miscarriage and his loss was devastating. I can tell you that she is terrified of losing this little boy. She's not said, but I see it. I'll ensure she eats properly. Jenny and I will be exercising with her daily, and we will support her. Sarek, I know that she is overjoyed to have Skelan on the way. She needs your encouragement, not condescension."

He thought for a moment. "I did not intend a patronizing or condescending interaction."

"I know that, and if she's honest with herself, she knows it, too. Another trait she shares with her father is that she will punish herself excessively for failure. I think it is a result of the intensity with which we educated her in her very first years. She failed so rarely, when it did happen, it was a big surprise. It's one of many regrets I have about how I raised my daughter," she said honestly.

"Regret serves no purpose," he said.

"Unless you have an opportunity to amend choices you made in the past because a new future has been given you."

Sarek looked at Anna pointedly. For someone who knew nothing of his decisions regarding raising Spock, she spoke volumes of truth in the matter.

Emma walked quietly through the gardens, the gravel walkway crunching softly under her feet. She wiped the tears from her face when Sulok approached.

"Lady Emma, what brings you distress?" he asked.

"My own poor judgment more than anything," she answered.

"Would you speak of this?"

"I learned this morning that I am losing too much weight right now, and it has potential to bring harm to our son. I am also trying to cope with my father's death, and I just don't feel like eating. I have to force myself to do so."

"T'Naara told me that you spoke of how his life was not wasted," he said quietly.

"No, it was not. I gladly celebrate that, but I miss him terribly, _Osu_."

"It is a paradox, death is. It presents us with great challenge, and great opportunity, even more so than life itself."

She looked at the ancient face before her, dark black-brown eyes shining in the lights of the garden.

" _Nemaiyo, Osu_."

Sulok bowed slowly to her, turned and walked away.

Returning to her quarters, Emma found a note taped to the door from her mother.

 _Sweet Emma,_

 _He called back just after you left. He wishes to speak with you. Please honor your husband and speak with him tonight. I understand your frustrations, but Sarek deserves much better than what you gave to him this evening. We will see you for breakfast._

 _Mum_

Emma dialed the code and waited. He answered before the second ring, speaking before she had ooportunity.

"Emma, I ask your forgiveness, as I caused you offense this evening. I desire your safety, and that of our son.

"I know you do."

A moment of silence passed.

"He is experiencing hiccoughs?" Sarek asked.

She nodded and smiled softly.

"What does it feel like?" he asked.


	60. Chapter 60

**Busy Little Boy**

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Emma and Sonek were working through his parts in the student composition: line by line, one measure at a time, then two, and then three. He was what her father would have called 'a quick study'. It suddenly came to her that the baby was moving a lot. It was almost uncomfortable, but she was so excited she didn't care.

"I would like to end early today please. You'll continue to practice pages thirteen and fourteen, add page fifteen, and complete the etude we began today. I will hear you again on Monday."

Emma quickly made her way to the medical center. "T'Pola, I can feel him moving!" she exclaimed

"Lie on the table, please. We shall document this movement and evaluate his development. Commencing detailed activity scan now: The baby is now nine inches in length and weighs fourteen ounces. His progress is improving."

They all watched the image of the tiny baby form. Little toes wiggled slowly as his legs would stretch out and then return to a rested position. As the scanner moved over her abdomen and scanned his face, his left arm moved upward, his hand touching his cheek momentarily. Two little eyebrows rose and then fell into place slowly as he appeared to yawn.

His nose was more developed now, showing the arch of his father, and the points of his ears were more defined. Black fuzz was beginning to grow. As the scanner made a second pass, he turned his face away from it, scrunching his nose and covering his eyes with his hands.

" _Itsk sa-kan,_ it is done," T'Pola said quietly as she turned the scanner off.

Emma thought about the tenderness of the affectation 'tiny boy'... the kind of thing a mother would say.

Sorel made calculations and then spoke. "Emma, you have made acceptable progress in your weight gain, and the child is healthy. Continue in your current activities, and increase your caloric intake to 2,800 per day. However, you must monitor your sodium consumption. The levels are in the high end of accepted norms. I prefer them to be lower for you."

"I will do it. May I have a file of that scan, please?" she asked.

"It has already been sent to your com-id," T'Pola said, knowing why she asked for it.

Emma made her way up to her mother's quarters and rang the chime. Anna answered it and smiled. "Silly girl, you can always come in, you know," she said, giving her daughter a hug.

"I know, but I respect your privacy. I have something to show you."

Anna watched the scan of her grandson as he moved and demonstrated his dislike of the procedure. She wiped her eyes and smiled. "He has the look of his father, so handsome."

Sarek closed the briefing with the diplomatic delegation and retired to his quarters. As he changed into his evening robes and sat with a cup of tea, he was profoundly aware of the absence of his wife when he heard the com-unit chime.

Rising to retrieve the message, he was pleased to see her face on the screen.

 _Hello,_ K'diwa _._

 _I wanted to let you know that we conducted an unscheduled scan a few moments ago as our son decided to become very active. I could feel him moving, Sarek, a lot! I have attached the video file to this message for you to see._

 _T'Pola said I have gained eight pounds, and that Skelan now weighs fourteen ounces, and is nine inches long. She and Sorel are pleased with the improvement, but Sorel has increased my caloric intake to 2,800 per day. I don't think it's possible to eat that much, but I will._

 _Things are going well with preparations for the concert, although I will not be conducting. Terry will conduct for me. She sends her regards, by the way._

 _Anyway, I wanted to let you know that both Skelan and I are doing well, I am following my healer's instructions, and life is as normal as it can be around here. I miss you. Do you know when you might be coming home yet? Please take care of yourself, my husband._

"Computer."

"Working."

"Playback attached video file."

He watched as the video ran its course, and the face of another son of Sarek revealed itself. The nose, eyebrows, ears, and eyes were his. But the striking difference was in the forming cheek bones, mouth, and chin. This young man would certainly show the contribution of his mother. He wondered about the color of his son's eyes.


	61. Chapter 61

**You're Killing Me, Smalls**

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Emma had never felt so sore in her life. Her back hurt badly, and then there was the matter of the cramps she kept getting in her legs. Instead of waiting for Sorel to arrive for their morning appointment, she made her way to the medical unit and found him there in consultation with T'Pola.

"Emma. Are you unwell?" he asked.

"My legs keep cramping."

"Lie on the scanner," T'Pola said. "You have gained eighteen pounds to date, Emma. Your sodium levels have also lowered into a more acceptable range. Potassium and magnesium levels are normal."

"The baby is now one point seven pounds, and fourteen inches in length. It is time to evaluate the development of his cardiac function," Sorel said. "Lie completely still."

Sorel began an intensive scan of the natal heartbeat, and as the scan recorded the procedure, he listened closely to the tiny flutter. Focusing the scan directly on the heart, they were able to observe the tiny organ hard at work.

"The fetal pulse is steady at 225 beats per minute. There are no apparent fluctuations and the scan verifies appropriate development of the heart and circulatory system. The heart is located in accordance with standard Vulcan physiology," Sorel said.

Emma woke up on the sofa in front of dying coals, snuggled up in a blanket with a book causally lying across her chest. She could not figure out what the noise was that woke her, but then she heard it again: the com-unit.

Yawning, she entered the study to find a call inbound to her. It was Sarek. She smiled.

"Hi!"

" _Aduna_ , how are you feeling?" he asked, pausing to look at her hair. "Did I wake you?"

"It's sticking off my head, isn't it?"

"Indeed," he replied.

"I fell asleep on the sofa again... I was reading. Anyway, how are you?"

"I am well, thank you. I understand our son is well, too."

"Sorel contacted you, didn't he?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, he did. He sent me a full report on the examination of Skelan's circulatory system. I understand that, although his pulse rate is only 225 beats per minute, both Sorel and T'Pola expect that to improve after birth."

"Yes. I am still trying to convince myself that a pulse that fast is not life-threatening," she replied.

He looked at her. He could see the improvement her weight gain had on her appearance. Rather than gaunt and tired, her color was a healthy human pink - she looked vibrant.

"It pleases me to look upon you again, my wife. Your absence is noticeable," he said with the soft, gentle voice that no one else ever heard. She saw it: he was lonely. She missed him, too, but it was the first time she had seen it in him directly.

"Sarek, do you have any idea of when you might be able to return home?"

"Not at this time," he answered her.

"Sarek, what time is it there?"

"0345 hours."

"It's late, and you must rest. Thank you for calling, it has been wonderful to hear your voice again. I look forward to your coming home."

"As do I, my wife. Rest well."

"Good night," she said, kissing her fingertips and then touching the screen before it went blank.

A moment of loneliness swept over her and as she sat in the darkness of the study, she heard it loud and clear in her mind: _...Soft Sound...not alone..._


	62. Chapter 62

**Romance Is Illogical**

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After a long day, Emma sat on the sofa with Anna and Jenny, drinking tea and enjoying a brisk, cool evening.

"Emma, when is he coming home? He's been gone a long time, at least it seems that way," Jenny asked.

"He has been, and his message last week said the 28th of this month. I think if time gets any slower, it'll go backwards."

Anna smiled at her daughter. "How did the evaluation go this morning?"

"Well, I am twenty-two pounds heavier since December. More importantly, Skelan is two and a half pounds and seventeen point two inches long. He is really growing now. Not too bad for twenty-eight weeks, I'd say," she answered, rubbing her belly gently as the baby moved around inside.

"Is he scooting around again, Emma?" Jenny asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Yeah. Sometimes I like to guess what is moving across my belly," she replied with a chuckle. Emma pulled her blouse up and pushed her waistband down a tad. A round protrusion scooted across her belly.

"That looks like a rump to me," Anna said.

Then a clearly defined foot pressed against the skin of her abdomen. On a whim, Emma reached over and tickled, and to her delight, little toes curled up and then the foot disappeared altogether as they laughed.

They did not hear the front door open and close. They were too busy talking about the baby. He stood quietly in the study and set his materials down. It was when he stepped out into the hallway onto the wooden floor that she heard him.

Then he stepped around the corner. She stood quietly. He looked at Emma and touched his first two fingers to hers, their bond surging. He shared the feeling of satisfaction he felt upon seeing her again.

"Anna, it is agreeable to see you once more," he said.

"You as well, Sarek. Jenny, we need to be going. Come along, now," she said quietly. "Welcome home, and good night to you both."

Once the family had departed, he looked at her carefully, surprised by just how much her body had changed in the eight weeks he'd been gone. He saw her belly twitch, and touched it lightly. It happened again, and then again.

"Hiccoughs?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Yep. He has them several times a day sometimes.

"I shall return momentarily, _k'diwa_ ," he said.

He had changed into one of the angora sweaters she had purchased for him on Skye - a soft earthen brown that she was convinced accentuated his eye color. His trousers were black, and for the first time, he was barefoot. Emma did not know what it was about his toes, they were just cute, and though he would deem it highly illogical, she decided he needed to know she liked them.

"Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," he answered.

She handed the cup to him and as he drank, he realized she was analyzing his feet.

"Sarek, you have wonderful toes. I find them to be aesthetically pleasing, to use a favorite phrase of yours," she smiled.

"Thank you. While I do not understand the value of critical evaluation of my feet beyond their functional capacity, it pleases me that they please you," he said quietly.

As they sat, fingers entwined, the hum of a transporter beam could be heard in the hallway. They turned to see his luggage sitting there.

"One moment, my wife," he said, walking to the bags. He carried them into their bedroom and after a moment, he returned with a small bag in his hand.

"I was unfortunately unable to acknowledge a day of importance to you. January the fifth was your 38th birthday. I have brought you this gift," he said, handing her a small box.

She carefully opened the box to reveal a pair of earrings and a pendant made of the darkest green emeralds she had ever seen. They were set in a metal that she had never seen before.

"The metal is indigenous only to Izar III. Like mercury, it is liquid at room temperature; however, the artisan jewel crafters lower its temperature with liquid nitrogen. Once in a solid state, it becomes malleable and can be shaped. Once the desired shape is achieved, it is allowed to return to a liquid state, but it retains the design."

"But how do you put it on if it's a liquid?"

"Thusly," he said. He gently pulled it apart, placed it around her neck and allowed the two ends to touch. They resumed the continuous chain that had been in the box.

"The earrings are similar, _aduna_. Place one over the hole in your earlobe and it will settle itself in place. When you desire its removal, gently pull and it will come off," he continued. Once the earrings were in place, he beckoned her to look in the mirror. "They draw attention to your eyes.

She looked in the mirror, and the emerald seemed to alter their color slightly based on the lighting conditions. This was the most beautiful jewelry she had ever seen. She turned to him and placed her arms around his waist.

"Do they please you?" he asked softly.

"Thank you for such a thoughtful gift," she said, kissing him lightly, following it with a tight hug.

As they embraced, he could feel the pain in her back and legs. "May I relieve this discomfort?"

"You can certainly try," she said.

He guided her back to the living room and laid a soft blanket down on the sofa. Gently, he undressed her and helped her to lie on her side, propping her legs upon a pillow. Starting with her neck, he carefully massaged the tense muscles into a relaxed state, and then progressed down her back.

The more he worked, the more his desire for her grew. He also was abundantly aware of the point of her pregnancy being such that physical intimacy might be uncomfortable for her. So as he massaged her legs, he decided to try something with her that they had not yet done.

He allowed his feelings of excitement and desire flow over their bond, and even though she was reciprocating those feelings and needs to him, her mind was very clear.

/I am not sure it's a good idea. I really don't want to explain that to them in the morning, Sarek. Explaining the hickey you left on my thigh to Sorel in October was embarrassing enough./

/I understand your concerns; however, there are other ways we may enjoy one another this evening./

Moments later, they were lying together, bodies entwined, seducing one another. His hands traveled across her body, her lips kissed his neck as he positioned himself over her, resting her legs over his thighs.

He joining their minds together, projecting memories of their bonding, first joining, and the many more that followed it. He showed her what he experienced as he brought their bodies together, the pleasure he received as hers washed over their bond - what he heard in her pleas to him, telling him what she liked and what she didn't...her begging him for release when he would make her wait just that much longer. As the meld continued, her own physical responses to his mental projections were intensely growing, and her hand found him as he lay propped above her, back home with her, in her arms. As they found resolution together, his release was slow and drawn out, and once complete, he held her close to him.

Sarek awoke to the sunlight filtering into their bed chamber through soft, sheer curtains. He welcomed its warmth upon his skin in the cooler air of the late winter in San Francisco. He heard her voice humming softly in the kitchen as she listened to Terran classical music.

Across their bond, Sarek could sense her happiness and satisfaction. She was calm and collected, full of joy – and he knew it had been a long time coming for her. He rose and dressed to join her.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said with a smile. "How was your rest?"

Accepting a mug of hot tea, he joined her at the dining table. "Who is the composer of this music, Emma?"

"This is Johannes Brahms, Sarek. He was a very important composer from Germany in the nineteenth century. His symphonies are of great importance to symphonic literature. This is his first sextet, second movement - _andante con moderato_."

"I shall add it to my listening library."


	63. Chapter 63

**I Found You When I Stopped Looking**

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The sunset on the bay was calm and beautiful as always, with traditional sailboats followed by modern seafaring vessels passing across the horizon in the distance. Blue and orange streaked across the sky, painting the clouds in a brazen display of natural beauty. Anna stood in the embassy garden, gently pruning her new roses as they climbed the trellis Sulok installed for her earlier that spring. From the first conversation they'd shared over a fountain closed down for winter, they found friendship and peace in each other's company as they tended to both Terran and Vulcan flora. As he approached her, he thought of the friendship they had begun to cultivate, and admired her courage and recovery in the loss of her life's mate. He reflected upon the death of his _k'diwa_ the previous year, finding similarities that he and Anna shared. He decided it was time to speak about the matter, unwilling to wait any longer.

"Anna," he said softly.

She smiled at him. "Hi. She's growin' quite well, thanks to your handiwork. You'll join me?"

He nodded quietly and gently began to thread a tender stem through the lattice, providing much needed support for healthy growth. She watched silently as he performed the task, and thought of what it must have been like for him to lose his wife and how strong he was for it. She respected that strength, and wondered if it would completely bypass good taste to consider the feelings she sensed stirring in her own heart. Four months passed seemed so close and so far away from her, and the idea of moving on from Will was acceptable and implausible at the same time. Surely he would not share these same thoughts she had, remotely interested in contemplating a future with her. She began to feel a wave of guilt for thinking of him that way – and then stopped the thought altogether. Sulok gently secured one last stem and then stood back and admired his handiwork. Removing his gloves, he cleaned his hands carefully and then turned to her.

"Will you walk with me?" he asked.

Falling into stride, they strolled through the gardens together.

"I understand that Emma has had a good report from _O'hakausu_ Sorel today?"

Anna smiled, recognizing small talk when she heard it, but decided to play along.

"Yes, she did. He is growing quickly."

"Indeed. It would appear that he will deliver as a healthy baby."

"She was so small when I gave birth to the wee girl," she smiled at the memory. "But I'm worried for her. He will be big, and it'll not be an easy labor for her."

" _O'hakausu_ Sorel is a gifted physician, having cared for Sarek's family for many years. He is the most qualified to assist her delivery, and can be trusted with your daughter and grandson."

They walked further in silence for a moment. He decided it was time to speak about the possibility of 'them'. It needed to be addressed regardless of the outcome. It would not be fair to either of them to avoid it any longer. He turned to her, thinking carefully about how he would say it. "I have always found working in the gardens most satisfying. It facilitates recovery from the intensity that results from diplomatic respnsibilities," he paused, thinking.

"When you arrived in December, asking about garden work - everything changed for me. The others do not attend issues out here, likely because I enjoy the work. Your request to join me in the care of this place was," he hesitated momentarily

"Was what?" She asked in a whisper.

"Refreshing," he looked away as a breeze rustled gently through the trees.

He turned to her. "You occupy my thoughts daily, and the time you share with me is most satisfying."

"I didn't know you thought that," she smiled. "It's just," gently touching her hand to his arm, "working here with you, caring for growing things, well, it's soothing. Time with you is peaceful..."

Emma and Sarek stepped out onto their balcony to observe the sunset when she noticed her mother in the garden with Sulok. She touched Sarek's arm and inclined her head towards them. Sarek watched in silence: an unexpected, but logical. Touching his fingers to hers, Sarek invited his wife to join him inside, leaving them to their privacy in the gardens.


	64. Chapter 64

**Reality Check**

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She walked slowly through the embassy, her back sore and ankles swollen. Sorel had requested she meet him in the medical ward, and she obliged him. He may have to wait a while, but she would get there eventually.

As she entered, she smiled weakly at him and T'Pola and lay upon the scanner for the daily evaluation to begin. She lay quietly, pushing thoughts of the pregnancy lasting two more months out of her mind. She was unsure she could accept that circumstance, but resolved to do all that she could, and be the best mother possible for this not-so-tiny boy growing inside her body.

"Emma, my calculations suggest that you will give birth no later than the sixth day of June. Skelan currently shows acceptable levels of development in all body systems. His cardiac function is nearing its normal pulse rate, and as of this scan, he weighs thirteen point two pounds, and measures twenty-one inches in length," Sorel said matter-of-factly.

T'Pola spoke. "As his current weight and length exceed the general norms for the human neonate, I would not recommend carrying the infant beyond this date. If you are not delivered by that time, surgical intervention will be necessary."

"Ok. I will look forward to that," she paused as the eyebrows rose in unison. "Jesting… just making a small joke," Emma said quietly as she sat up.

"I do not understand this form of jest, Emma," T'Pola responded.

As she walked out and headed toward her office, Emma turned and smiled. "To be honest, if I don't laugh right now, I'll cry."

Since the signing of the Verellian accord, many social changes were taking place in the system: a time of peace not seen in forty years had begun. Communities on both worlds were being rebuilt and working governments were established once more. Civilian defense groups replaced the roving militias, and normalcy was returning to daily life. Planets throughout the Federation united together to support the formation of peaceful coexistence between Verellian III and IV. The Betazed Diplomatic Delegation sent dozens of counselors to help the people begin to process through the violence and near genocide each planet had endured.

Tellar Prime designated its top engineers to work with the Vulcans in developing and initiating viable planetary infrastructures. The Andorians trained the defense volunteers – all that remained was for it to continue. The Izarian Delegation sent their best agricultural engineers to identify and establish the most productive varieties of crops for food and industry. Sarek estimated one hundred years would be necessary to observe and assess the actual changes that would result from these efforts, and it was satisfying to him that the process was progressing as such. As his obligations were to monitor the progress and cooperation between the planetary leaders, Sarek sat in the shuttle craft as it entered the system, watching Verellian III grow larger on the screen as the craft made its final approach and entered the atmosphere. He thought about the conversation he and Emma had as he prepared to leave for Verellian III.

" _Now? You can't be serious," she said with frustration._

 _He'd been gone a long time since their return before the New Year. The thought of his not being there during a time when she needed him so much was unappealing._

" _I need you here," she said softly, in a last-ditch effort to convince him, even though she knew it would not work._

" _I must evaluate the progress of communication and cooperation between Fol'vin and Veled. Fol'vin's decision to acquiesce to the treaty was quite unexpected. I must ensure that he was and still is willing to honor his commitment to peace," he replied._ _He understood why she was displeased; however, he would meet his diplomatic obligations. "It is my preference to be with you through these final weeks. Warranting any emergent situations, I shall endeavor to return before Skelan is born."_

As he began continued negotiations with the Ambassadors of Verellian III and IV, Sarek spoke with them regarding his concerns for the continued peace between their worlds.

"I am concerned by the reports of pirating in the outer regions of your system, Ambassadors. Who is responsible for these actions?"

Fol'vin spoke first.

"They are Orion. We negotiated with them decades past for arms as the conflict between our worlds was in its infancy. They have always been a part of these actions in one way or another. However, when I agreed to the peace accord last year, I demanded a cessation of our relationship with them. They have been less then accommodating to our withdrawal from them."

Veled looked at his counterpart as anger flashed in his eyes, but he remained quiet.

"How long ago did you attempt to sever this relationship with the Orions, Fol'vin?" Sarek asked, almost unbelieving that anyone would enter into any type of relationship with them and expect to walk away unscathed.

"Immediately after meeting with you on Earth, Sarek."

"I see. This should have been brought to my attention as we completed the initial negotiations. Have there been any hostilities between the Orions and your soldiers since that time?"

"Only mild activity; however, the Orions have quickly learned that my militia is not to be trifled with," Fol'vin answered, a taste of his former arrogance flavoring the conversation.

Unable to hold his tongue any further, Veled spoke.

"How long did you think you could function without their retaliation, Fol'vin? You brought the wolves into the fold. Unbelievable."

Sarek intervened.

"Be that as it may, we must remain focused upon the future of cooperation between your worlds. One issue of that cooperation is now dealing with the mutual threat that lies in the Orions. Continue to monitor their activities. I require copies of all surveillance records you have on the matter."

After the meeting between Veled, Fol'vin, and the Vulcan diplomatic delegation, they retired to their quarters to prepare for the next day's meetings. Sarek sat quietly as he read the message from Sorel detailing Emma's condition and needs.

"Soran?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I calculate the odds of completing negotiations within seven days to be 81.4%. Do you concur?" he asked.

"Affirmative," Soran replied, understanding the reasoning for his question.

"Understood. I require a secure connection to the embassy in my quarters immediately," he instructed as he strode out of their meeting room to his private chamber. The connection was active as he walked in the door. Sulok sat waiting for him.

" _Osu_ ," the elder answered from inside Sarek's home.

"I will speak with my wife."

"Both she and her mother have stepped outside for a walk, Ambassador. I am uncertain of their precise location at this time. If you prefer, I will have her located and brought to a terminal," he offered.

"Not necessary. How do you observe her condition this evening?"

"Resilient – one moment, they have returned," he said gently as the door opened with their conversation continuing from the hallway. A moment later, Emma appeared.

"Hello."

Seeing her and hearing her voice was soothing. " _Aduna_. Are you well this evening?"

"I'm ok. Sarek, he's getting big, _really_ big. Sorel and T'Pola spoke with me about the potential for a surgical delivery if Skelan does not come along on his own terms before the sixth of June."

"Emma, my preference is to attend you at that time, however it is likely that I will not be able to return for the birth of our son,"

"I know. I have Mum, Murron, and Jenny here. I'd certainly rather you as well, but I understand if it's not possible," she replied with a smile.

He saw through the façade of her confidence, knowing she was concerned.

"Besides, I know you would like to be here for his arrival. I would speak with you on another matter, if you have a moment."

"Of course."

"Sulok and Mum are getting along famously. In fact, they availed themselves of the opportunity to take a walk," she said with a smile. "They do so every evening now. They're sharing meals, and spend the majority of each day together."

"Their personalities are highly compatible. None should be alone when a suitable bond-mate exists," he replied.

"Indeed, I am glad for the change it has brought in her. She's more alive than I've seen her in a long time."

"Emma, has she spoken of any plans as of yet?" Sarek asked.

"Not yet, but my curiosity is roused," she replied with a sigh.

Sarek looked at her image on the screen and took a long, slow breath. As he did so, he thought of how her entrance into his life had changed him. "I shall return to you as soon as possible, _aduna_."


	65. Chapter 65

**Business, None Of Yours, Inc.**

Emma decided on a calculated risk, and went to her mother's apartment. She knocked quietly and waited. When she answered, she looked surprised, as if her daughter was not the one she expected. "Emma, you feeling ok? Come in, love."

"I'm well. I think I ought to be asking you the same."

Anna looked at her for a moment. "Is it that obvious?"

"Being that you share every meal, and spend each day together? Yes."

"I see. Well, I didn't expect it. This is beyond anything I've ever felt. I hope it doesn't hurt you to hear."

It did not hurt her, in fact, it was a relief. "Mum, all I'm wantin' for you is happiness again after Da. I do think he'd want the same for you. So, you made any plans yet?"

Anna blushed, looking away for a moment.

"Wait – you've already bonded with each other," she exclaimed, delighted.

Anna nodded.

"Dare I ask further?"

Anna's eyes shone brightly in her silence.

"Oh, I see. Well, be prepared for him to want you to live with him."

"We had that conversation this morning," she nodded toward the overnight bag on the table. "I let him know I would do so when I was ready. I'm getting there, but I'm also caring for Jenny, and honestly, I need the time to adjust to it. Em, this was not the way I'd planned to tell you," she chuckled, nervously.

"Sarek and I didn't do a very good job of it either, so fair's fair. You'll both make it known, but only when you're ready?"

Anna nodded slightly, and hugged her. "I was so afraid you would be hurt. Emma, you'll tell me the truth about how you feel. My life revolved around what Will and I created, and now that he's gone from me, I decide how I'll be known. I decide when it happens. It's the best gift he could've given me."

"Sulok is intelligent, thoughtful, and kind. I wouldn't be angry with you for that, and neither would my father."

"Last night – Emma – I can't describe it. I can't understand it, but he is with me. It's reassuring, but strange."

"You should get used to that soon enough. Even though he is there, you are still entitled to privacy should you need it. You only need tell him: literally think his name, and when he acknowledges you, request privacy."

They were interrupted by the door opening behind her, Sulok standing in the doorway, clearly not anticipating her presence.

" _O'Savensu_ – forgive me," he bowed. "I was unaware of your visit."

" _Osu_ , I am the one who has interrupted," she replied with a smile. "I didn't announce my visit tonight, and it's late. Good night," Emma glanced between them.

After returning home, Emma dialed the number. "Murron… I know it's late and I'm sorry to – no I'm fine, the baby's fine. Have you talked to Mum lately?"


	66. Chapter 66

**Incursion**

2296.529

Emma walked through the halls of the embassy in the darkest hours of the morning. She had been unable to sleep and decided to walk out the discomfort she was feeling. The cold rain and wind prohibited her walking the gardens as had become her habit, so she decided to look upon them from the warmth of the embassy kitchen instead. After brewing a cup of tea, she walked quietly into the darkened dining hall and sat at her favorite table. She took a sip of her drink and was setting the mug on the table when something in the gardens by the fountain caught the farthest periphery of her vision.

Very carefully, she moved her body in a swift motion to the darkness beside the windows. There would certainly be no one outside in the weather as it was, regardless of the time. With extraordinary caution, she peered carefully around the window and observed a most unusual sight: a Vulcan crouched in the shrubbery, soaking wet with rain, manipulating an electronic watched the individual move from one position to another in the bushes and then a small but bright beacon of light activated, and then stopped. The dark figure looked around warily, and then continued to manipulate the device further.

Emma moved farther forward to attempt a clear look at the individual, and as she did bumped the chair next to her. The noise startled the late night visitor who whirled around, vision focused upon the curtain that was settling still after being moved. She quickly ran to her office and shut her door, locking it quietly. She moved in the darkness through the room to the studio adjacent to it, and pulled her communicator out of her pocket as she carefully maneuvered underneath the piano in the back. She settled down quietly underneath as she entered the emergency code Savel had assigned to her when she began her employment the previous year. Designed to act as a silent alarm, it required her to say nothing as he and his security contingent would locate her and attend to her needs. She activated the code, knowing it would bring the entire Vulcan security force out of slumber, and for a split second, she hoped she had not just imagined the incident. She began to regret the decision _until_ she heard her main office door being manipulated.

As the piano was adjacent to the outer hallway, she could barely hear mumbling of frustration by the individual attempting entry, followed by momentary silence, and then quick footsteps away from the door. She held her breath as panic sent her pulse rate escalating.

Savel bolted upright in his bed when the alarm system activated with Emma's personal emergency code. Without turning on his lights, Savel quickly dressed and spoke to his bond-mate. "T'Pola, you will remain here with the children. Do not leave our quarters until I have authorized it," he whispered softly.

"Understood," she replied.

He quietly walked out of their bedroom to find Sonek and T'Naara standing together in the living room, unsure of what was happening. "You will attend your mother in our chamber. Remain there until I instruct you further," he instructed Sonek sharply.

" _Ha, Osa-mekh_ ," Sonek replied as he quickly herded his sister into the room with their mother.

Once convinced of their security, he activated the code that would place his security team on alert to meet him, and then contacted Sorel. " _Ohakausu_ , _T'Sai_ Emma has activated her emergency security code. Remain on standby alert for my signal to attend her once the embassy is secured."

"Acknowledged," Sorel replied.

Emma remained hidden under the piano, listening for any indication that the 'visitor' had returned, but there was none. Even so, she waited for any indication that Savel received her distress signal, and then it came. His coded response told her only that he was _en route_ to her and to remain still and silent. She carefully pressed her ear against the wall and heard the softest of footsteps padding down the hall, accompanied by a female Vulcan voice acknowledging the area was cleared and secure. A moment later, the lights came on throughout the facility and the security lock on her office door deactivated.

"She is in the studio," the female voice said.

Emma backed herself further into the corner under the piano as she watched as three pair of legs clad in black stealth uniforms and silent-soled boots entered the room and surveyed it. One pair walked toward the piano and stopped. She heard the tricorder scan stop its cycle, and then saw Savel's face appear as he peered beneath the instrument. As he looked under the piano, he saw her wedged into the back corner of the room, her eyes filled with fear and confusion, and tears on the verge of spilling over. He stood upright and issued orders to the security squad, who departed the room immediately.

" _Osavensu_ , it is safe to come out now. Do you require assistance?" he asked delicately, not wishing to startle her further, offering her a hand as she crawled out from under the piano and stood.

At that moment, Sorel and Sulok entered the office. Sorel began to attend to her as Sulok spoke with Savel.

"What has taken place, Savel? Are we compromised?" the elder Vulcan asked, his eyes settling on Emma

" _T'Sai,_ detail everything that you witnessed," Savel began gently.

As she explained what happened during the break-in, Emma struggled to maintain self-control. Even though the rational part of her mind was certain they would understand her anxiety, the emotional side of her was too proud to allow them to see her weakness.

"Explain why you were walking the corridors at that time," Savel said.

"I've not been feeling well, and I usually walk in the gardens when I am experiencing such discomfort. The baby has been very active, and it's painful sometimes. The rain and wind were too much, so I decided to walk in the open access areas. I didn't wish to disturb any of the families, and I know they would have heard me in the hallway," she answered.

He nodded. "Yes, we would have. Continue."

"I went to the kitchen for tea, and then to my usual table. I had taken a sip when movement caught my peripheral vision. I hid in the corner of the window behind the drapery and that is when I saw it."

Savel looked at her pointedly. "How many were there?"

"Just the one."

"Was the intruder male or female?" he asked.

"Definitely looked like a Vulcan male – too broad-shouldered to be female."

The female security officer entered the room and addressed Savel. " _Oshartanilau-talsu_ , we have completed security scans of the grounds and are currently reviewing the files from the security cameras. No trace evidence has been found outside; however, we have completed collecting of physical evidence inside the embassy."


	67. Chapter 67

**The Protector Returns**

Soran read the report Savel submitted on encrypted priority frequency and then handed the report to Sarek.

"Sir, there was a breach of security at the embassy last night."

Sarek looked at him sharply and immediately read the report Savel submitted.

… _0345 hours… footprints found in garden… perpetrator had Vulcan appearance… unidentified at this time… attempted forced entry to cultural liaison's office… no casualties or injuries…_

Sarek completed the report and set the PADD on his desk. He quickly reviewed the materials they had completed in the previous day's mediation and determined they were at a suitable point to pause in the process.

"We will depart for Earth this evening, Soran."

2296.64

Once secured in orbit around Earth, the Vulcan diplomatic delegation transported directly to the embassy grounds. Sarek walked into the main hallway and entered his office. Sarek summoned Soran to his office. "I will speak with Security Provider Savel immediately."

"Understood, sir."

A moment later, Savel entered the office and waited.

"What information has been found in the investigation of the intruder?"

" _Osu_ , what is certain is that there was one individual, a male with Vulcan appearance. He was able to move freely throughout the gardens without disturbing the alarms, and when his presence was noticed by _T'Sai_ Emma, he pursued her into the building. She retreated to her office and requested security assistance," Savel began.

"Our response time to her was seventy-seven seconds. In that time, the intruder tried to gain entry to her office in an attempt to bypass the security lock on her door. He failed. We were able to secure the embassy and make contact with her. She was recovered from hiding, physically unharmed, and provided her account to us."

"What are the results of examination of the trace evidence recovered?" Sarek asked.

"The only DNA recovered from any area of the embassy involved in the intrusion reveals individuals who are authorized to be on the grounds: both Human and Vulcan. There is no indication of involvement from any other species. Additionally, all evidence shows only one perpetrator was inside the building during the attempt to gain entry to _T'Sai_ Emma's office door."

"Increase patrol schedules. Recalibrate all surveillance equipment. Verify all anomalies personally. Trust this responsibility to no other. If we are infiltrated, this will reveal the perpetrator quickly."


	68. Chapter 68

**Keyh Sahla**

End meal found the small family back together again for the first time since Will's death, and this time, there was laughter and talking. Jenny's language studies were paying off, with her presentation of the meal in reasonably correct _Vulkahnsu_ , save an outrageous accent. The only real change was the addition of a new Vulcan to the table. Murron watched her sister interact with him, and then realized what was going on. It was as if she were watching Emma and Sarek on the dock in August all over again. She looked directly at her sister, waiting until she met her gaze. When she did, she saw peace that had been gone from her little sister for a great while. She watched him prepare Anna's plate before his own, pouring her tea, adding one lump of sugar and a small portion of milk, precisely the way she liked it. Their fingers touched, Anna blushed slightly, and he bowed his head to her gently.

Murron needed details, and soon.

Sarek had prepared Emma's plate, and paused a few minutes later, observing it mostly untouched. She chose to move her food around the dinnerware instead eating. Sensing intense discomfort building across their bond, he looked at her directly. The discomfort began to swell, rising to a peak and then recede.

/ _Keyh sahla_?/

/Yes, very soon./

After dinner was over and company gone, Emma lay on the sofa, engaged in the focused breathing exercises she had been instructed to use as her body prepared for birth. He found her there, and knelt beside her, hand on her arm.

" _K'diwa_ , what do you require?"

"Mum," she whispered, exhaling gently.

"Understood."

Opening the door to search for Anna, he found Sorel and T'Pola about to knock.

"Emma's medical scanner report indicates her body is preparing for delivery," Sorel said, focused on the steady stream of information flowing through his tri-corder. They went to her and began to assess her condition.

" _T'Sai_ , it is nearing time. We shall transport you directly to the medical unit. Lie still and continue to focus only on your breathing. Do not bear down." she instructed, programming in coordinates.

"But I need to," her eyes closing as the contraction strengthened.

"Seek only perfect breath," Sorel said. "I shall walk through this with you, and all I require in these next moments is that you simply breathe."

Knocking lightly on the apartment door, Sarek waited. Jenny answered as laughter and conversation in Gaelic carried on softly in the background.

" _A tha e_ , Jen?" Anna called to her, walking in from the den. "Who is it?"

"Sarek?" She smiled, her accent thickened by her native tongue.

"It is time."

A carefully coordinated flurry of activity hovered around her: monitors providing readouts of her vitals, Skelan's heart beating at a vigorous 265 beats per minute, trending the increasing strength and frequency of each contraction.

Moving seamlessly around both healers, Murron and Anna went to her, comforting her through each breath, moment of pain, and encourage her. Jenny stood back hesitant, not at all certain she wished to be there: it was intense, frightening. She wanted to support Emma like she had seen her mother and aunt do for so many, but she froze.

"Jenny," Murron called softly. "Come. This is natural, something we've done for milennia. She needs _you_ now."

"Sweet girl, we care for our own, and you've got to learn this at some point. Maybe you'll go through this someday. Believe me, it'll be so much easier with those you know and trust," Anna beckoned.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, feeling like a silly child.

As a contraction ended, Emma spoke to her. "You'll do what is needed."

"Would you like some music?" Jenny asked, thoughtfully.

"That'd be nice," she paused midsentence, as another started, "something from home, something soothing."

T'Pola scanned her progress, time fro the second stage of delivery fast approaching. "Relax, Emma. It is not yet time."

"This needs done, _T'Pola_."

"Continue breathing through," she comforted softly.

"I can't - " she cried out, the pain intensifying.

"Shh, shh, Emma," her mothered soothed, practicing the exercise with her. "There you are, my love. You must help him ready now."

She tried to remain focused, but the burning, searing, pain was gaining purchase. As she breathed through with her mother's guidance, a soft recording began to play in the background, a slow, gentle ballad, brought her mind back into focus.

The scanner softly chimed, and they began to guide her through each wave, making the most effort for each they could. Sarek approached her, his hand holding hers.

"Breaths in succession, a deep inhalation, and push steadily for a count of ten," Sorel guided. As she did, Sarek supported her, counting softly for her as she cried out.

/Wuh… dah… reh… keh… kau… sheh… steh… oh… nau… leh…/

"And relax now," Sorel spoke softly, giving her a moment, and then continued. "Deep breath in, and ten more."

Three hours work completed, they were rewarded with a crown of thick reddish-black hair. She was feeling perilously close to the point of having nothing left, her only sustenance the guidance of her family and care from her healers.

"Focus now. Look at me, Emma" Sorel said gently, as if they were only ones in the room, demonstrating his reputation for outstanding bedside manner. Once she made eye contact, he continued. "Breaths in succession again, deep inhalation, and push to fifteen. You're very best effort now."

He guided the baby's head outward, carefully supporting as it rotated to the side. Sarek felt the overwhelming, nauseating pain she experienced freely flowing across their bond, and wished it something she did not have to endure.

/… leh wun… leh dah… leh reh… leh keh… leh kau…/

"Twice more. Breathe deeply, and bear down, to fifteen again," Sorel instructed.

As she did, the right shoulder appeared, followed by the left.

"Your responsibility to him is nearly complete: fifteen once more."

In one last effort, the rest of him arrived. While Sorel managed the duties that remained, T'Pola began cleaning and warming the baby, rewarded by a hefty cry of protest. " _Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, itsk-sakan_ ," she whispered to him. Gently, she handed him to Emma, and as he settled down, opening his eyes to look at her, green gazed upon green. Just as she had 39 years earlier, he smiled at his mother.

For six hours, eleven minutes, and thirty-one seconds, Sarek sat in the recovery area, watching her sleep. Her efforts had been quite admirable. After T'Pola had attended to the injuries Emma sustained during the birth, she placed Emma into a sleeping state and set her to rest.

… _She has substantial physical trauma. I will closely attend her recovery, for it will take time. The first surgical repair is completed. She will require two more procedures. Her effort in his birth is most commendable… she is an honorable wife…_

"Your son, Sarek," Sorel said, handing the baby to his father.

"His condition?" he asked, looking at the sleeping baby.

"Satisfactory. He is strong, much like Spock was. Skelan weighs 14.6 pounds, 23.5 inches long, pulse has stabilized, and blood type is T-negative. All instinctive, behavioral reflexes are normal, and I have completed mapping his genome. I see no cause for concern in his early development."

Sarek looked at his son quietly. "Sorel, you bring great honor to my family."

"Though illogical, occasion exists when the needs of the few outweigh the many. The honor is certainly mine.

"When will you return to Nisus?"

"I shall not. We will return to Vulcan. I find my logic flawed if I do not partake in the development of my grandchildren."

"Understood. When will you depart?"

"In five days. I will take my leave of you, I must meditate."

A tiny squeak came from the bundle in his arms. He looked into the green eyes observing him and saw his own countenance, looking to his wife as she stirred awake.

" _Aduna_ , our son," he said, handing her the infant when she reached out for the baby.

"Hello, Skelan," she said with a tired smile.

Sarek regarded her tenderly. "Emma, I thank you for the gift of my son."

She held their infant up to look at him. "It was worth every moment, sweet boy."


	69. Chapter 69

**Glad To Call You Nephew**

Sarek sat in his office at the embassy. The birth of his third son filled him with deepest satisfaction. He made a note to send notification of the birth to Dunvegan, to Vulcan, and to Spock. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up to see Murron. "Enter," he said, inviting her to sit.

She handed him a small box. He looked at it, opening it carefully. Inside was a picture frame surrounding a photograph of Emma in the moments after Skelan's birth, smiling at the infant who smiled back at her. "I took a similar photo of Emma moments after Anna gave her birth. Congratulations, _O'samekh_ ," she said, hoping she remembered Jenny's pronunciation.

He paused, remembering the photo she referenced. "How long will you remain?" It had been a satisfying experience to have the family surrounding them during this time.

"Daniel has been selected to assist in training new medical staff for the Academy, so we will be heading back to Skye in the morning to help with little William." She paused, smiling. "Our grandson has us all very busy."

"He is in good health?"

"Yes," she smiled, "and growing so quickly. It is a pleasure to have babies in our family again. Sarek, it has brought us distinct satisfaction to graft you in, to see Emma blossom once again to the life that she so deserves. I thank you personally for seeing and hearing her for who she truly is."

Murron smiled gently at him. "Emma is the most unusual person I have ever known. She is dutiful, honest, merciful, and gentle – and yet her own kind could not give her the acceptance that you do."

He observed her struggle to hold tears back. She accepted the tissue he offered her.

"Thank you," she dabbed her eyes dry. "Pardon this please, I am very tired. I don't mean to embarrass you."

"Surak taught us that display of emotion is acceptable provided the cause is sufficient. You have brought no offense to me this evening."

The women of Emma's family were so resilient that it was unsettling to see them in a moment of emotional weakness. She smiled, grateful for his courtesy.

"Sarek, I was there at the moment of her birth – Emma has been a delight to us all of her life. I am grateful for all you have provided her, the opportunity to grow into the person she was intended to be. This past year has been a tempering flame. You bring honor and respect to our family. We are proud to call you _mac-bráthar_ , our nephew."

He chose to risk a moment of vulnerability. "Emma has given a renewed existence I thought lost. I find this gift that she, who is my wife, has provided me to be most satisfying."

Murron looked into his eyes. _'She who is my wife'…_ _Such an interesting description_ , she thought.

Impenetrable, controlled emotion looked back.


	70. Chapter 70

**Awakening**

US Intrepid II

Sitting quietly in the observation lounge, Spock indulged in a rare moment of personal reading. He held the ancient book in his hands gingerly, a gift from his mother on the occasion of his fifteenth birthday: "Self-Reliance" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. He closed his eyes in memory, that moment alone with her while his father was off-world on assignment…

"Spock'am _, I have something for you," she said, smiling at him. "My grandfather gave this to me when I was fifteen, and I want you to have it."_

 _She smiled as her precious son fidgeted slightly in his chair._

"A'maih _, this is most gracious of you, but why do you insist on celebrating the day of my birth? I made no constructive effort or contribution. It was your effort that brought me," he said softly, still not understanding his mother's needs to go against tradition,_ _particularly_ _when his father was not home._

 _She laughed softly. "Spock, I surely made the effort, but you are a priceless treasure given me by your father, and therefore I gladly honor you. Besides, this is part of that 'Terran Mother Privilege' we've talked about before. Humans celebrate birthdays, you may as well accept it as an axiom."_

 _He looked into her blue eyes, privately grateful for her acceptance of him, and nodded respectfully._

" _Now," she said teasingly, "are you just going to sit there, or will you open it?"…_

Taking a deep breath, he returned to the place he marked in a previous moment of spare time, and began to read.

" _Ne te quaesiveris extra_." He translated the ancient Latin in his mind: 'Do not seek outside yourself'.

How many times had his mother encouraged him with this wisdom, and he not fully understood the truth of it? He continued reading a section his mother had underlined many years prior.…

… _ **To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men — that is genius**_ _…_ _ **There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance**_ … _**The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried…Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string…accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events…great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being…**_

Ensign Davies stood in the entrance to the observation deck, watching her captain in a very rare moment of peace and quiet. He was an excellent leader, setting forth seemingly ridiculous expectations, broad patience, and a steadfast, unwavering faith in his crew that they would certainly accomplish all he set forth for them.

She had heard so many different things about him before she was assigned at graduation that she was unsure of what to expect, so she chose not to set any expectations and simply allow the experience to be what it was. She hoped that she would have the same philosophy and unyielding confidence when she commanded a crew of her own.

She hated to be the one to interrupt this elusive moment for him, but stepped forward to deliver the PADD that contained a private, encoded message from the Vulcan Embassy on Earth.

"Excuse me, Captain," she hesitated, waiting for him to acknowledge her further.

"Ensign?" he asked, marking the place in his book and closing it gently, placing it on the table.

"Forgive the intrusion, sir. You have received a priority message from Earth," she said quietly as she presented the PADD to him.

"You may return to your duties." He took the PADD from her.

"Aye, sir," she replied, walking away.

As he activated the encryption software, he made a mental note to evaluate the promotion schedule. She had performed admirably in the past two years, and was due the additional responsibility and privilege that should accompany those efforts.

The PADD chimed softly when the message was ready. He pushed play, and was pleased to see his father's stoic face, lined with near exhaustion. Anyone else would not have seen it.

 _Greetings,_ Sa-Fu _._

 _I wish to inform you that at 2327 hours, Emma gave birth to our son. Both are in excellent condition. I have included images for you. The formal naming ceremony has been scheduled for six weeks from today. I understand that your duties will likely preclude the possibility of attendance however we shall be honored should the opportunity arise, my son._

Spock viewed the attached images of the third son of Sarek, the gift of his maternity was clear. His chin and its gentle dimple, softly rising cheeks that replaced the sharp definition of the Vulcan face, the black fuzz of hair that betrayed the slight red tinge, and his eyes: a deep, emerald green. The color did not exist naturally in the Vulcan genome, and would offer a truly unique attribute.

This child represented life given his father, a selfless contribution, a willingness to see Sarek's life continue with renewed strength. He thought of the conversation he had with his father at the end of his visit the previous October, and the wisdom of his parents as he sought the answers to his own life, and possibilities in the future.

"… _consider that which surrounds you…reflect upon your_ life _carefully and you will realize her identity,_ Spock'am _. You alone must discover her for yourself…"_

Passing quietly through the halls, those under his command stepped quietly to the side, acknowledging him respectfully. Upon entering his quarters, he activated the screen and entered his personal communications clearance code, and then entered hers. He waited with carefully masked patience and the call chimed repeatedly. Just as he was reaching to disconnect the call, it was answered, and they observed each other quietly.

" _Dif-tor heh smusma_ , _Khart-lan_ Spock," she said respectfully.

" _Mene sakkhat ur-Seveh_ , _T'Sai_."

Her curiosity stirred, wondering what would provoke him to initiate a real-time communication.

"The Intrepid II will arrive in standard orbit in four hours, seven minutes. I will speak with thee at that time."

She nodded. "Understood."

He discontinued the call and began to meditate upon his decision. His parents had been correct – she was there all along. How had he not realized it until now? His fingers steepled, he sank into a meditative trance, considering the life that awaited him.


	71. Chapter 71

**Instruction**

2293.622

Sarek awakened at 0530 to find Emma out of bed. Walking down the hallway, he peered around the corner to see her lying on the sofa with Skelan in her arms. The light of the firepot cast a warm glow upon them.

She was talking to him softly as he nursed, his tiny hand grasping her thumb and moving it enthusiastically. Sarek observed as the thumb-waving began to slow, and then stop as the green eyes fluttered closed. He walked softly to her, pleased to see her delight at the child they had created.

" _Ha'tha ti'lu, Aduna_ ," he said, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

He reached for Skelan, cuddled him against his chest in his robes with him. Once secure, he sat in his favorite chair next to the firepot and regarded her in the darkness, the light flickering gently.

"I have a small problem," she smiled at him and sat up, wincing as she settled down.

"T'Pola must be notified. She explained the extent of the injuries you sustained during the birth," he stated, his concern growing.

"Actually, it's just uncomfortable. I will visit T'Pola if you wish it."

"A visit will ensure that your progress is meeting with expectations," he answered, knowing that requiring her to do anything would produce less than desirable results.

He had learned through the experiences of her father's death, and the difficulties she experienced during the pregnancy that she would comply with reason… it simply had to be her idea.

She smiled at him, hearing the tacit request, and knowing that he would not relent, decided he was right. "You are right, _Adun_. I will go this morning."

"What of the problem you described?" he asked, as he adjusted Skelan's position inside the robe, bringing his head into proper alignment, resting the infant against his neck. He was rewarded with a quiet squeak and a sigh as the little boy fell back into sleep.

"Well, as much as I relish in the moments I wrap myself in your previous day's robes, I need to find an alternative for moving throughout the embassy. Lessons and work will resume today, and I certainly cannot wear yours," she answered.

He nodded in agreement, indulging in the satisfaction of knowing that two visitors would arrive in moments with the precise solution she needed. "I am confident the solution will present itself," he said elusively.

Emma looked at him with curiosity, wondering what he was on about, but decided to leave it alone. They sat talking together quietly until the door chime rang.

"I shall answer it," he said, cradling the baby gently against him. Standing, he turned to her. "Watch carefully, for you shall witness an ancient tradition, _k'diwa_ ," he quoted her words from the pub during their first visit to Skye.

T'Pola and T'Lyra stood outside the door, with robes in their arms. They greeted him as he answered, his infant son cradled in his neck. They entered the home and found her on the sofa, smiling at them.

"This is an unexpected pleasure."

"Emma, you will come with us," T'Pola asked, quietly.

As the three women walked into the bedroom, Sarek was grateful for the traditions of kindness, mercy, and inclusion that these women of different species shared with her.

Entering their bedchamber, Emma turned to them. "What's this about then?"

"Maternal instruction would be given you, were the ambassador's mother still alive." T'Pola paused, ensuring the measurements were correct before securing the hem, and then continued. "As she is not, we shall perform this instruction in her stead. My mother instructed me upon the birth of my son, and hers before."

Emma nodded silently, understanding they were there to care for her as if she were one of them – and then she realized they saw her as just that, one of theirs. Sarek sensed the feeling of acceptance and supported her across their bond.

/They claim you./

"Remove his robe," T'Lyra requested.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Emma did as instructed, standing naked in front of them.

T'Pola spoke as she draped a lovely black robe around her shoulders. "Skelan requires attention and care throughout the day," T'Pola began, instructing her to the care of her child, "and you will provide for his needs accordingly. These maternal robes, the _pelal t'ko-mekh_ , are designed to enable that provision regardless of the environment you find yourself in," she said knowingly, demonstrating how to secure the robe at her hips.

"They are unique in design in our culture, only worn by the mother of an _uzh-kesh'tu_ , and only until that infant is able to walk independently," T'Lyra added. "During an emergent situation, others will proactively ensure your safety."

"After securing the lower clasps, bring this fabric upward to the opposite shoulder, securing it here," T'Pola said, clipping it in place at the joining of her arm and shoulder.

"Skelan is carried here as you perform your duties each day, protected from the elements, receiving warmth from your body. The bodice of this design provides the physical support and relief necessary without requiring a supporting undergarment."

"This fold provides access for nursing, while the outer fold provides the level of modesty you prefer," she continued, gently placing Emma's right breast into the fabric, then repeating the procedure for the left. "I am aware that Terran culture views nursing publicly with varying degrees of acceptance. "

"What of Vulcan society?" Emma asked.

"Your son requires nourishment, and you will provide it. Openly breastfeeding outside is illogical, subjecting you both to heat. Inside, it is accepted openly. If the child requires feeding, it shall be given."

"For your comfort and flexibility, the garment is designed to provide such support ambidextrously," T'Lyra added. "Sovik tailored these robes to your previous measurements. He will be available to alter them in any way needed."

"As this is now _your_ primary responsibility, you will allow Sarek to fulfill _his_ primary role: The Protector. You will maintain control of the child at all times outside of the embassy. Emma, I will speak candidly now. Bonding with a Vulcan male is the beginning of your duties to our culture. These robes signify you have recently given birth, yes, but there is much deeper meaning. It marks your integrity and trustworthiness for all to see."

"How?"

T'Pola looked at T'Lyra thoughtfully. "She must receive complete education."

"Agreed. _T'Sai_ , request the Ambassador grant you privacy at this time," T'Lyra asked, waiting for compliance.

Emma blinked for a moment, and reached out to him.

/Sarek./

/Yes?/

/I require privacy, please./

/Understood. I am available at your request,/ he answered gently, understanding crossing his mind: they had come instruct _and_ educate.


	72. Chapter 72

**Education**

As uncomfortable as it was to consider, he was grateful they were conferring the knowledge she needed to escalate her awareness of societal expectation and responsibility.

For a moment, she could still sense him over their bond, but a subtle change slowly dissolved away the saturation of the connection they shared. In its place was the same peace, but with an undesired silence.

"You'll please explain why I just asked him to diminish his presence within my mind. I'm aware of him, his thoughts, and I prefer his presence. I'll have you know I'm not happy about what I just did."

"It is for his benefit," T'Pola replied knowingly. "The subject matter we shall address will cause him discomfort. Under normal circumstances, this information would be given before a daughter reaches sexual maturity, over many years. When our appointment is complete, you will understand why, and you will indicate to him he may return to you fully. It is highly probable he has already deduced the nature of our conversation. Skelan's birth is out of sequence with cultural tradition. The recent, clearly frequent consummation of your relationship with the Ambassador is acceptable– but fundamentally unorthodox."

Feeling defensive and protective, Emma exhaled sharply, color flushing her cheeks in embarrassment.

"And be I'll educating _you_ now," she asserted, "the activities we engage in the privacy of our home are none of your concern. I've learned to restrain my desire for public affection, so I'll thank you to stay out of my private life. You'll be respecting my boundaries in the matter. As for my son, you'll not refer to him in that way again. 'Out of sequence'… from conception to delivery, I have never had a more sequential experience in my lifetime."

"I ask forgiveness," T'Pola answered gently. "I have caused confusion. I shall clarify. Skelan's birth is a satisfying event for all of us. We are honored you invited us to experience his development and delivery. Personally, I will commend you for extraordinary effort. And any activity partaken with your _adun_ is solely for you both. However Sarek, as all Vulcan males, was marked at conception with a biological imperative. Upon sexual maturation, he entered into an ongoing seven-year cycle – the _Pon Farr_ , being the orthodoxy to which I refer. When his time comes, Sarek's blood chemistry will change, and awaken a primal biological need to reproduce. It will not be optional."

Emma was utterly confused, and it showed. "So we shall attend to the matter and that's that?"

"Not as such," T'Lyra interjected, glancing at her companion. "It will be challenging to negotiate. The Ambassador will be unable to regulate his affect, losing significant control of emotional response. Copulation is a small part of the larger issue."

T'Pola nodded. "It will last between three and nine days and be quite taxing for you both. You will oversee his intake of food and water, practice of hygiene, taking rest, and _you_ will set a mutual pace for copulation. If you do not manage these with heightened care, it will not result well."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

T'Lyra answered. "He will need careful guidance for maintaining the barest, essential dignity and your instruction will be how he focuses the traces of logic that remain. He is solely dependent upon you for his physical _and_ psychological survival in the immediacy of events, and over the long term. You will go into Seclusion, away from others outside of your bond. You will support him as he regains his self-concept once more. An _aduna_ that does not maintain this responsibility to the highest standard will open the possibility for weakened trust during his state of illogical thought. Once set, it is nearly impossible to repair, as it can only be resolved during his next cycle, seven years later.

T'Pola spoke up. "The males experience difficulty discussing this because of what it represents: pure illogic, the loss of identity, and retrogression to a time beneath this place of our social evolution. It is because of this our society has developed as a matriarchy. While affected, females do not lose control of our logical philosophy with such intensity. We are affected by it strongly, and while my blood burns for Savel alone, it does not dissuade my logic to the same degree as his. This was decided millennia past that we would retain this authority in order to preserve our way of life. Emma, this robe you now wear: it speaks for you, a responsible mother, and identifies your role in both your bonding with the Ambassador, and Vulcan society."

"And what is this role?"

"The Steadfast. The Protector and The Steadfast function in synchronicity. Your Protector sired this child outside of his cycle, and you must be prepared for its ensuing onset."

"I suppose the only logical question is how long do I have?" Emma asked, concerned.

"You have between five and seven months - the primary reason for his assignment here to be closed. It is evident that his trust in you is well-seated. We are here to guide you through this process, Emma. Neither T'Lyra nor I will stand by and watch you encounter this not knowing the fullness of your responsibility to him. We shall return to him momentarily. You will receive the child from him, instructing him to cooperate. He will fully understand your actions," she paused momentarily. "I would ask you to consider speaking with him about his perspective for the coming time. It will enlighten him as to your current perception, and allow him to clarify."

"Understood. I owe you both an apology, I just feel so protective of them both. I ask your forgiveness."

T'Lyra regarded her, a growing understanding of the concern Emma was carrying now.

" _T'Sai_ , we will only address sensitive topics when absolutely necessary."

She regarded the women tenderly, working to suppress tears. "Your service honors me. To be called friend by you…my heart is full."

They returned to the living room to find Sarek in quiet conversation with Soran. The two men turned their attention to them as they entered the room.

/ _Adun_?/

/I am here with Thee./

/Privacy is no longer required./

/Understood./

She met his eyes, contemplating the changing manner in which they would relate, and walked to him. "I will take him now, _Adun_."

"As you wish."


	73. Chapter 73

**Life's Satisfaction**

Vulcan Embassy

2296.81

Sarek and Emma again shared end meal on the balcony of their home, overlooking the embassy gardens and across San Francisco bay. The only sounds were of occasional traffic outside the embassy walls, laughter and conversation floating on the slight breeze, and the birds that chattered in the gardens below.

Eating in customary silence, Sarek regarded his new son Skelan, breastfeeding, grasping Emma's index finger tightly and waving it triumphantly. He watched her smile at their baby, cooing and gently touching her thumb to his forehead. In these moments between mother and son, he would simply listen to her thoughts.

/Ah, my treasure. My precious love./

He could sense the maternal affection flow to the little boy who stopped nursing long enough to smile at her.

Only two months old, his level of physical activity had far surpassed the expectations held by embassy medical staff. In a recent conversation with Sorel, they had begun to discuss additional methods of engaging Skelan's level of activity.

Sarek contemplated the differences between his sons at this particular age, and how those differences would challenge him now. He did not feel the same sense of worry for Skelan as he did with Spock – it was different now, mitigated by his age and life experiences. There were many errors he would not repeat with this new child.

He thought about his method of raising Spock, cogitating upon the notion that he worried too much, shared too little, criticized too much, praised too little – even Amanda had admonished him for it…

… _They argued frequently when Spock was a child. After completing his_ Kahs-Wan _trial, Sarek had increased the intensity of his scrutiny, convinced it was the only way to ensure Spock's complete acceptance into Vulcan society._

 _Inexperience blinded him from the truth, fearing Spock's actions would reflect upon him, instead._ _Now betrothed to T'Pring, Spock had crossed into a much different arena of social grooming, and Sarek felt duty-bound to ensure he succeeded._

 _After a particularly difficult day in school, wherein Spock had earned what Amanda described as a 'respectable shiner' for defending her honor, Sarek and Amanda argued intensely._

" _Sarek, I am glad he defended himself. Stonn and his hoodlum friends go out of their way to provoke him each day. In fact, this is their thirty-fifth attempt this term, if I am not mistaken," she fumed._

"Aduna _, he must not be encouraged to resort to violence simply to manage annoyance - " he stopped when she cut him off._

" _He was not managing an annoyance, Sarek! Stonn physically pushed him this time. He laid his grubby little hands upon my child. I will not stand for this," her voice beginning to escalate._

" _Regardless, Spock cannot be allowed to give in to the impulse of aggression simply because of what the boy did. He will only demonstrate Human weakness in this," he replied._

 _Her body language changed, with tremendous subtlety. Sarek saw it and immediately wished to modify his proffered adjective._

" _Human weakness," she said softly. "Keep this up and I will show you some Human strength,_ husband _."_

" _Beloved, I - " he was again interrupted, and sincerely regretted his word choice now._

 _Her volume had dropped, and her eyes focused on him with fierce intensity as eyebrows furrowed forward and her gaze began to bore through him._

" _Don't 'Beloved' me, Sarek. You need to get one thing straight at this moment: when you insult my son, you disrespect me. I will not tolerate that. I left my home world for you, my life there to create one together, to support you – and the best you can do is disrespect_ _us_ _this way? Hear me now,_ Adun _. Offense has been taken."_

 _Sarek looked at her, stunned. "I ask forgiveness, Amanda. I did not intend it. I am performing the duty expected of every father."_

" _I know you are doing the best you can for him with the skills you have – we both are. But Sarek,_ you _must do better!"…_

Emma noticed he was orbiting some unknown star in thought.

" _Adun_?"

No response.

"Sarek? _Haló_?"

He blinked and looked at her, realizing she was speaking to him.

"Forgive me, my wife. I was considering the past… and its consequences."

"Anything I can help with?"

He looked into her soft, loving eyes and nodded. "Yes."

After a bath and what Emma called 'guy time' by the fire pot, Sarek laid the slumbering baby in his crib gently, placing his thumb on the tiny forehead, conveying paternal assurance and protection. He would give his very best effort to not repeat past errors, to do better with this new child. He found her reading in bed, glancing over research articles. She did this when unimpressed with the work produced by the author. She would not outwardly complain about them as she felt that rude. However she was unlikely to select their future work without references or suggestion from others. She smiled at him when he entered the room. He felt a strong sense of intimate desire flow across their bond, followed by frustration for the medical limitations she was still under as her body healed from giving birth. She'd successfully recovered from all three reconstructive surgeries, but the healing was taking time.

Without a word, Sarek walked into the bathroom, and began his nightly hygiene regimen. After mentally noting to seek dental assistance the next morning for discomfort in a molar, he turned the light off and entered a now darkened bedroom. He crawled into bed and spooned up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Softly caressing her hip and the outer edge of her right thigh, his fingers traced small, swirling patterns, only coming to rest after she sighed softly. "My _Aduna_ ," he whispered into her right ear.

Emma felt her body awaken under the influence of his attention, and knew it would not be a great idea to engage in saucy activities just yet, but oh, how she wanted to. "This is not fair," she whispered, as his fingers had begun to explore her waist.

"I simply wish to share a moment with you." His right hand caressed her cheek slowly, locating the psi points for them to share a mind meld together. Engaging her slowly and gently, he projected memories of how he had seen her over the course of their interactions…

… _The staring contest during her interview – how she had tricked him into relenting… observing her instructional methods, performance practices and technique, and her regard for others… reconciling the debt she felt owed from working with Amanda that he had forgiven… interactions with T'Naara and Sonek… her friends, her family… her community on Skye… observing her parent's anniversary celebration… their conversation on the dock outside the pub… satisfaction upon realizing mutual attraction… their love making…_

Emma decided to reveal some things as well…

… _the flirtation during the interview, that she had hoped he was oblivious to at the time…_

/I was only minimally aware. I simply thought I had misperceived it. I did not believe you would find me appealing./

… _her delight at his request for historical discourse and conversation outside of her normal schedule…_

/It was the only logical method to reasonably request additional time with you./

… _The first time she became truly aware of his scent, what it did to her, and what she did after he'd left for the evening…_

/Indeed? You have hidden that from me until now,/ he mused.

/I'd never felt anything like that before, Love. Trust me. I enjoyed myself several times that night,/ she confessed.

/As we are revealing secrets…/

 _... her first night at the embassy, on the jogging path… their conversation as she worked the cramp out of her calf… and his internal struggle with a desire for his eyes to linger on her legs…_

/My wife, you are not the only one to enjoy moments such as these. I knew our professional relationship would be challenging for me from the beginning because you occupied my thoughts so frequently./

… _their first embrace, exploration, and intimacy…_

/ I realized I could make neither assumption nor comparison of you and Amanda – both so human, but unique in the universe. That night was exquisite./

… _in front of the fireplace, the scent of peat, tea, and her hair… heat of the fire… physical need… nakedness… male… female… vulnerability… glistening skin… frantic movement… mutual submission and trust… the relief of shared, compounded release…_

Their conversation continued into the cool evening, renewing and rebuilding the element of their relationship set aside for the birth of their child. Decades had prepared him for the most important negotiation of his entire life.

Diplomacy indeed.


End file.
